


Drown in the Light

by eirana



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-14
Updated: 2011-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirana/pseuds/eirana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for harlequinkradam.  After a score of resoundingly dull society suitors, Kris Allen still longs for only one man: the dashing scoundrel who kidnapped him two years ago.  Adam Lambert has a secret: he's the one Kris seeks - it is his kiss he still yearns for. Confessing to his abduction would bring disaster and scandal upon them both. But how can he convince Kris to forsake his pursuit of his dream lover when all he dreams of is holding him in his arms again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drown in the Light

_“This is goodbye,” he said tonelessly._

 _In the dark, Kris couldn’t see a thing. He’d never seen his lover without his mask, and he refused to see Kris by day, but his words, his voice, had always been able to tell Kris everything he needed to know._

 _“You can’t mean that!”_

 _He said nothing, but Kris could feel the weight of his disdain in the air; his lover could say so much with so little._

 _“You knew that this would end. I was only keeping you until your father acquiesced to my employer’s demands.”_

 _Kris’ fists clenched, nails biting into his palm, as it always did when he was reminded of the strange circumstances that had brought them together._

 _“But I thought you loved me.”_

 _His answer was a harsh, mocking chuckle. “You’re a fool,” he said, drawing near and running a gloved hand across Kris’ cheek._

 _Kris closed his eyes and tried not to lean into the deceivingly tender touch._

 _“I suppose I am,” he whispered._

 _He turned his back, dismissing his captor. Kris waited, shoulders tense and hunched, for the next move. He heard footsteps moving away from him, towards the door. The door opened with a quiet creak, clicking shut seconds later._

 _Kris bit his lip, muffling the cries that wanted to escape. He would not show weakness, not anymore._

 _Not ever again._

~*~

Kris absolutely detests the Season.

To be frank, he’s not fond of London in general. He much prefers staying at their country estate, far away from all this pretentious posturing.

Wave after wave of suitors, each one less memorable than the last, have been assaulting him for the past hour. Kris finds it rather telling that the most recent, three women all with the same name and similar in countenance, were only distinguishable by the color of their gowns.

He’s twenty-one, a nice marriageable age, and considered a fine catch in many circles; he could care less. Kris would be content to live his days out in the country, unmarried and never visiting London, except for business.

He’s heard stories of London’s pleasures for years, but he’s never been inclined to partake in them; he sees no reason for such frivolity.

“Kris?”

Kris feels his mood lift instantly - his cousin, Allison, has always been good at rousing his spirits. She comes into view, dressed in a pale blue gown, a picture of demure gentility - until she spots him. Allison walks as fast as she can towards him, and he barely manages to keep her from throwing her arms around him. He adores her candid nature, but he knows that many of the _ton_ do not; it has made her first London Season a challenging one.

Kris absolutely adores Allison. She may not be the typical young lady, but he finds it refreshing; he wonders if any of the guests here feel the same. He knows many are at a loss when faced with her outspoken nature; the _ton_ doesn’t seem to know what to make of Allison, a girl as loud and vibrant as her bright red hair.

“Cousin,” he says, face impassive but for the slight quirk at the corners of his mouth.

She glowers at him, just as he knew she would, and he laughs.

“Have you been standing in this dark corner all night like a sourpuss? I’ll not have you keep up the wallflower act, Kristopher; it’s unbecoming,” she says grimly, tone at odds with the mischievous grin on her face.

“Perhaps I like it that way, Allison. You may find the Season exciting, but for old codgers like me - ”

He’s cut off by a smart rap to his shoulder from Allison’s fan, much to the horror of Lady Wyndham, who is staring at them both, mouth agape. Kris pushes down the urge to laugh, pinching Allison when she looks like she’s about to break. He sends a charming smile Lady Wyndham’s way before taking Allison’s arm for a dance. Allison’s barely able to keep her composure when Kris misses a step that almost knocks them into the couple next to them.

She leans forward to whisper into his ear, toothy grin on her face, “Lead properly, Kristopher! Can’t have the _ton_ thinking that you’re incapable of doing the gavotte.”

He scowls at her, letting himself play along; Allison only calls him Kristopher when she believes he’s acting like a “stuffy old man”.

“I can dance well enough, dear girl. Perhaps you are simply mistaken.”

She opens her mouth to make a smart remark when someone lays a hand on Kris’ shoulder, causing him to halt in his tracks. He turns to face the interloper, praying that it isn’t yet another unmemorable suitor, and breathes a sigh of relief when it’s a young man he recognizes as having shown interest in Allison at a previous ball.

The boy stutters through an offer to have Allison for the next dance. Kris takes pity on him and bows out, handing her to him with a warning look at the boy, quelling it when he catches Allison’s glare. She has yet to have a suitor with a lasting interest, but this one looks promising; Kris will never hear the end of it if he scares him off.

As soon as they’re safely gliding across the dance floor, Kris makes his way to the doors leading towards the gardens. This estate is known for them, and he thinks taking a peaceful stroll surrounded by trees and flowers would be preferable to staying in here, defenseless prey to ravenous vultures.

The cool night air is a relief; ballrooms are stifling. Best of all, the gardens have many secluded alcoves, perfect for some privacy. They’re usually used for clandestine trysts - something he believes their owner was well aware of when he’d approved the design - but Kris needs a moment to himself, and he is willing to risk stumbling upon a secret rendezvous to get it.

As it turns out, he doesn’t stumble upon anyone. He finds a private corner, complete with a cozy looking bench, and plops onto it gracelessly, sighing in relief.

He’s so tired of London. He’s tired of the Season, and of all the men and women clamoring for his attention for no other reason than his wealth or because they find his form pleasing.

He’d prefer to remain unmarried, a confirmed bachelor; he doesn’t have time for all the mind games involved in the marriage mart.

Kris doesn’t know how long it’s been since he sat down, lost in his own thoughts, when he hears footsteps and loud laughter; the first secret rendezvous of the night, it seems.

He stands up, determined to escape before he runs into them. From the sounds of it, they’re nearby, and he’d rather not be an unintentional voyeur. Unfortunately, he turns around and collides right into one of them.

“I’m so sorry, I’m leaving, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Kris says, the words leaving his lips before he can think. He runs out of steam eventually, speech fading away when he chances a glance up at the man he ran into.

In the dark, he can’t make out much, but the moon is bright tonight, providing just enough light for him to make out his features. He’s gorgeous. Kris has never paid much attention to the men and women who pursue him, but he knows beauty when he sees it; the man before him is definitely beautiful.

His full lips curve into a smirk, and a hand caresses his cheek. Kris catches himself before he can lean into it. This man has some nerve, pretending such familiarity with him when he doesn’t even know his name.

“Well, hello there.”

The man’s voice is soft and sultry, the kind of voice that Kris is sure has tempted many before him. This is just the sort of man that mothers warn their children about. He’s nothing more than a rake who wants a warm body in his bed for the night.

Kris steps away from his too-intimate touch. “Pardon me. I’ll leave you and your companion be. This space is all yours,” he says, gesturing towards the bench with a flourish.

He starts to walk away, but the man has stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.

“Now don’t be rude. At least give me a name before you storm off in a huff.”

“I don’t think I shall,” Kris says stiffly, pulling his arm out of the man’s grip. The nerve of him, honestly! “Your friend looks like he’s starting to become lonely.”

“That’s perfectly alright. I could always make a new friend,” he says with a suggestive leer.

Kris rolls his eyes. The man may be insanely attractive, but he’s no different from the fools in that ballroom; he’s only looking to fulfill his own agenda. His agenda is less honorable than most, or he’s just more honest about it, but it’s all the same.

“Adam,” the man’s partner whines, trying for seductive and falling short, “forget Kris; he’s no fun.”

He sneers at Kris, wrapping possessive arms around the man’s waist. The man- or, Adam, rather, since he has no last name to accompany it - looks irritated by his companion’s clinging. Then his face breaks out into a wide smile.

“Kris? I’ve been given your name after all,” he says delightedly, like a child with a new toy.

“Kristopher Allen, at your service,” Kris says wryly, resigning himself. If this odious man wants his name, then he can have it; it’s not likely their paths will cross again, not if Kris can help it.

He turns around and walks away, thanking God when no one tries to stop him this time. Kris doesn’t notice how Adam has frozen, tense under his partner’s touch, watching him walk away as if he’s seen a ghost.

~*~

Adam can’t believe it.

Kris. _His_ Kris.

It’s been almost three years since he last saw him; Adam could kick himself for not recognizing him. Time hasn’t changed him that much. Same sweet face, same kissable lips. There’s something harder to him though, a cynicism that wasn’t there before.

Adam knows that he’s the reason it’s there.

His companion, some man he can’t even remember the name of, vies for his attention again, planting kisses on his neck. Adam pushes him away, turning from the insistent lips seeking his own.

“What’s wrong with you?” he says with a pout. “Did he ruin the mood?” When Adam doesn’t answer, he sighs before smirking and letting his hands wander to Adam’s crotch. “Don’t worry; we’ll get it back soon enough.”

Adam rolls his eyes, shoving him firmly away. “I think not, Dennis.”

He becomes indignant at that. “My name isn’t Dennis, or Daniel, or Donald, Adam. It’s-”

He stops him with a wave of his hand. “I don’t care. Sorry, but I’ve changed my mind.”

Adam doesn’t even wait for a response before he walks back towards the ballroom, intent on finding Kris. He doubts Kris will talk to him after what happened in the garden, but at least in there, Adam can look his fill in a place with proper lighting.

The entire way back, what’s-his-name follows him, talking his ear off, complaining about how heartless and callous Adam is; he can’t bring himself to care.

~*~

Kris finds Allison next to her mother, looking very unhappy. He recognizes that face; Allison’s temper is about to be unleashed. He circumvents the incoming argument by pulling her aside, nodding at his aunt, who sags in relief.

“What’s wrong, Allison?”

She crosses her arms, the scowl on her face refusing to budge. “Nothing, Kristopher,” she grits out, glaring daggers at her mother.

He stares at her, and eventually, she sighs forlornly. Kris braces himself for the worst.

“I have a suitor.”

He wonders who could be so distasteful that Allison is so obviously against the match. “Who?”

Allison mumbles something under her breath. Kris resists the urge to tell her that ladies must speak softly, but clearly; she has a really good right hook. He simply raises a brow at her, silently asking her to repeat herself.

“Lord Daniel Gokey.”

Propriety be damned, Kris takes her into his arms right then for a long, comforting embrace. No human being should be faced with the prospect of Gokey as a life mate; that’s cruel and unusual. He holds onto her for as long as possible, ignoring the disapproving glances around them when he finally releases her.

“What did your mother say?”

“She said we would be honored. I think she was lying. I hope she was lying.” She makes a face. “I’m going to have to suffer through his idea of a courtship.”

Kris puts on a sympathetic face, biting back a laugh. Gokey had been interested in Kris himself for a moment - a very brief moment, thankfully. His idea of romance seems to consist of talking about himself, talking about his money, talking about his family’s history, and talking some more about himself.

Allison’s going to have a very trying next few weeks. Although he has to admit, seeing it from the outside makes the situation much more amusing. Not that he’d tell Allison that; he likes his face the way it is, thank you very much.

“Would you actually marry him?”

The look she gives Kris could burn a hole through his head.

“I’m asking you to think about it, Allison. Gokey may be a self-absorbed, pompous prick, but he’s not cruel; he’d treat you well. I mean, you’d be bored to tears, but other than that-”

She whacks him with her fan once more, this time aiming it at the side of his head.

“On second thought, perhaps you’d be the cruel one,” he says, rubbing at the sore spot.

“Kris,” she says, and something in her voice makes his chest hurt. “I want to marry for love.” She looks so solemn, like she’s much older than she is.

“Alli,” he says gently, “you know how rare love matches are.”

“I know that, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. I want to be in love; is that so wrong?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask.”

~*~

Adam finally loses D-whatever by introducing him to some hapless maiden (who probably isn’t that maidenly judging by the low-cut of her dress).

He scours the room for Kris, against his better judgment. He shouldn’t seek him out - better to let the past stay in the past - but he can’t resist. Adam needs to see him, even if it’s only for a moment.

 _There_.

He’s standing to the side, talking to a girl with bright red hair. They look to be deep in conversation. Before he knows it, he’s walking towards them, making sure to catch the girl’s eye. She regards him with suspicious eyes.

“Hello,” he says amiably, smiling at them both.

The girl is watching him warily, as if she’s not sure what she thinks of him just yet. Kris acknowledges his presence with a curt nod.

“And you are?” the girl demands, meeting his gaze head-on; Adam likes that.

“Lord Lambert, my dear, but you can call me Adam.” He takes her hand and kisses it, smirking at the light flush on her cheeks. “And you are?” he asks, throwing her words back at her teasingly.

“Miss Allison Allen,” she says, a smile curving her lips. “And this brute,” she raps Kris’ arm with her fan, ignoring the scowl she gets in response, “is my cousin, Kristopher.”

“We’ve met. Nice to see you again, Kris,” Adam purrs, taking Kris’ hand in his and kissing it as well, much to Kris’ obvious displeasure. He tugs his hand out of Adam’s grip rapidly, eyes darting around the ballroom as if he’s ready to flee at any second.

“You know each other?” Allison asks, a gleam in her eye.

“We had an unfortunate encounter outside,” Kris says tersely, glaring at him all the while.

“Don’t be cruel, Kris. I’m not that offensive to your sensibilities, am I?”

“Hardly. If I found you repugnant, it would mean that I cared enough to form an opinion.”

“How many have been flayed by your sharp tongue this Season? I’m sure you have sent many a suitor away with a broken heart and their tail between their legs.”

“Not at all. I’m perfectly nice to those who deserve it.”

“You wound me, Kristopher!” Adam says dramatically, grinning at the quickly-hidden grin it elicits from Allison. “Surely we can start afresh? I was not at my best when we happened upon each other.”

Kris opens his mouth - that tempting mouth that Adam had once claimed as his - and then closes it, staring at him thoughtfully.

Allison looks intrigued. Adam is too. This new, older Kris is more spirited than the one he knew, but less open and sweet, more guarded; he isn’t particularly fond of these changes.

“Oh, Kris, don’t be a bore! Adam is one of the few interesting people I’ve met in London. You’ll have to get past your differences and become friends. If you don’t, I’ll take my fan to your backside.”

“Allison!”

Kris looks appropriately appalled, but Adam can tell he doesn’t mean it by the fond smile he gives Allison a moment later.

“No need for threats, Allison. I’m sure Kris and I can come to an agreement. Can’t we, Kristopher?”

Adam smiles at him, the one that’s gotten men from seemingly uninterested to writhing beneath him in only a matter of moments. Kris looks indifferent. He allows himself to pout, because, honestly, it’s not fair that Kris is so unresponsive to his efforts. He isn’t exactly honorable, but Adam is undoubtedly charming.

He tries to coax Kris into a conversation for several minutes, each attempt expertly dodged, and finally gives up, speaking solely to Allison, who looks delighted by his company. She’s simply a treasure, lively and outspoken in a way that many of the women here aren’t. Adam gets so wrapped up in talking to her that he hasn’t noticed Kris has slipped away.

That is, until he hears a commotion behind him.

He glances at Allison, shocked at the hostility there; he pities whoever it’s aimed at. Adam turns to stare, mouth dropping open. Kris appears to have lost all composure, face flushed with anger, hand clenched in a fist.

Who could cause Kris to come so undone?

And how would he look if he lost his composure in a more enjoyable manner?

Alas, Allison steps forward, almost bowling him over in her haste to reach Kris, and he’s forced to leave those thoughts for a more convenient time.

She’s stepped in between Kris and the other person, glaring balefully at them; it’s a rather impressive glare. The other person is a woman, tinier than Kris even, with the typical golden blonde hair that’s the rage this Season. She’s wearing some overly lacy green gown, her hair done up in a bun with a few curled strands framing her face fetchingly. Adam can’t help noting that she has gorgeous hair.

Allison is exchanging heated words with the mysterious woman. Kris is standing behind her, a scowl on his face. When he’s able to make out some of the words - and they start attracting the notice of others - Adam walks over, placing a calming hand on Allison’s shoulder.

“Lord Lambert, pleasure to meet you,” he says to the woman in green.

He watches dispassionately as her face flushes, seemingly oblivious to the sly, mocking tone he’d used.

“Miss Katherine O’Connell,” she says, beaming at him.

Oh, she is so barking up the wrong tree.

“I actually came over to ask Kris for a dance. I didn’t want to interrupt. Fortunately,” he says, throwing a quick wink at Allison, “Allison took matters into her own hands.”

Adam holds a hand out for Kris, waiting. He stares at it for a moment, eyes darting between him and Miss O’Connell, as if unsure which option will cause less suffering on his part.

The silence starts to drag on too long; O’Connell begins to look suspicious. Allison clears her throat impatiently, spurring Kris into action. He takes Adam’s hand, numbly letting him lead Kris to the dance floor.

It makes him want to sigh, how perfectly Kris fits into his arms. Adam moves them easily to the steps, taking the opportunity to study Kris without his notice. He seems preoccupied by Allison and Miss O’Connell, who are still speaking to each other in a semi-secluded corner. From what Adam can see, Allison is laying into her viciously; he wishes he were a fly on that wall. He watches Allison’s movements grow more and more extravagant until, finally, O’Connell stomps away.

Kris’ eyes follow her off the dance floor, and Adam’s curiosity is piqued by the mix of emotions he finds there.

“Who is she?”

“Katy,” is all he says in reply, watching her with something like regret.

He wants to say that that wasn’t what he meant - and to ask why Kris addresses her with such familiarity - but the dance ends before he can. Adam lets him go reluctantly. Kris stares at him for a moment, unreadable.

He feels vulnerable under that steady gaze, as if Kris can see into him and knows of all the things Adam’s done since they last met.

“Thank you,” Kris says, leaning in to press a kiss to Adam’s cheek.

He walks away before Adam can recover enough to react properly.

Well. That was interesting.

~*~

Allison assaults Kris the second he reaches her. She latches onto his arm, ready to start interrogating him, but he cuts her off.

“It was in thanks, Allison, nothing more.”

Except he’s not sure if that’s truly the case.

After the fact, Kris can’t help feeling embarrassed. What had he been thinking? The truth is, he hadn’t been. It’d felt natural to show his appreciation in that way. He’s not enamored of Lambert the way Allison is, but he’d felt comfortable with him, enough to act with an intimacy their relationship doesn’t warrant.

It’s perturbing.

Kris isn’t stuffy and prim - no matter how much Allison likes to tease him - but he isn’t free with physical affection with those who aren’t family members.

Lambert is definitely not family.

No matter how much Allison seems to like that idea.

“Just think of it, Kris! You two make such a striking couple, you really do. You could marry him, and then I could visit during the holidays, and I’ll be your children’s Aunt Allison! It’ll be brilliant.”

“Allison!”

She stops, in the middle of telling him about their summers at the Lambert estate, complete with lemon sherbet and croquet games. “What?” she snaps. “You’re not going to object, are you? He’s absolutely darling! We get along famously.”

“I noticed,” Kris mutters. “But in case it’s escaped your notice, I would be the one he’s married to, and he and I do _not_ get along famously. There will be no marriage, there will be no summers at his estate with lemon sherbet and croquet games, and there will absolutely not be any children who will call you Aunt Allison.”

She pouts. “But, Kris-”

“Not another word. Or I will do my best to tell your mother how well-matched I think you and Gokey are.”

Allison leaves the subject alone for the rest of the night.

~*~

Adam’s no good for the rest of the evening. He gets no less than seven offers, some worth taking and others not, but none of them are enticing enough to hold his attention. His mind keeps wandering to Kris. Adam doesn’t know what possessed him to kiss him, but he certainly didn’t mind.

After turning down yet another pretty boy with a come-hither grin and bedroom eyes, he decides to head home for the night.

The carriage ride is quick, if only because Adam’s mind is so fixated on Kris. He hadn’t thought of what it would be like if they met once more - he doesn’t think about a lot of things from that time in his life - but perhaps it would’ve been better if he had.

He hadn’t been prepared to face his past, especially not this particular piece of it. Kris is better left in his memories, where he can stay Adam’s shining, beautiful boy, unmarred by reality and adulthood, forever young and pure.

He doesn’t want to remember him as a man with too-sad eyes.

Adam needs a drink, perhaps several.

He heads for the library, intent on downing some scotch until he’s so plastered he can’t see straight. He opens the doors, caught by surprise at the sight of a slim blond sitting in his favorite chair, nursing a drink and reading a book.

“Tommy, what are you doing here?”

The intruder looks up, grinning wryly. “I can’t visit family?”

Adam grunts. He doesn’t feel like verbally sparring right now. His mood calls for getting incredibly drunk. Tommy watches him intently as he pours himself a healthy amount of scotch. When Adam downs it in one gulp, he gets up and takes the bottle away, ignoring Adam’s indignant cries.

“What happened?”

Damn.

It’s Tommy’s concerned voice, the real one. Adam never could resist it.

“I met someone I used to know.” At Tommy’s look, he sighs, coming clean. “From back in the day,” he says significantly.

His eyes widen in understanding. “From your misspent youth?”

Adam has to laugh at the expression. “Yes, Thomas, from my ‘misspent youth’.”

“Don’t call me Thomas! You know that’s not my name.”

“It is as far as the _ton_ is concerned. You know how they hate ‘common’ names.”

“Still. Don’t be a prick, Adam. There’s more to this than running into someone from those days. Was it-”

“No,” he says, cutting Tommy off. “Not him. He and I have settled all remaining debts; I no longer interest him. No, this was someone else. Someone important to me,” he says softly, staring into space.

Adam can feel Tommy’s eyes on him, questioning, but he doesn’t want to tell him, not now. Maybe tomorrow. He’s nowhere near ready to tell it all tonight.

He and Tommy have always been close, closer than most cousins, but the years Adam spent away and without contact with anyone in the family is a subject they’ve never touched upon.

Adam had hoped to keep it to himself, a secret that he would go to the grave without ever telling.

It looks as if that will not be the case.

~*~

The problem with Allison is that she’s persistent as all hell. Once she latches onto the idea of Kris and Adam as husbands, she refuses to let it go. She kept to her word the night of the ball, leaving the subject alone for the rest of the night, as she promised.

However, once the night ends, she starts in on it again.

She keeps prattling on about how perfect they are for each other, how they seemed to connect instantly. It’s like all the good love stories, she keeps saying.

Kris has never wanted to strangle someone so badly.

If she kept her comments to herself, he wouldn’t mind so much. But, no, she has to tell her mother, his mother, his father, his brother, all her friends; Kris’ patience only goes so far.

After a week or so, he starts to get paranoid that Lambert himself will come to call and start courting him. When two or three weeks pass and he has yet to encounter the obnoxious cad, he finally starts to relax, even though the cheering section hasn’t given up on their “epic love story”.

As luck would have it, that’s when he runs into Lambert for the second - third? - time.

It’s a masque, a fancy to-do complete with elaborate costumes on most of the guests. Kris has never been much for these sorts of parties, although he enjoys watching what the _ton_ comes up with.

Allison had insisted on something that looked like flames dancing every time she moved. Her mother had balked at the bold, bright colors, but allowed her to wear it since she would be masked - not that it would help; Allison was always distinctive, masked or not.

He had hoped to get by on simply wearing a domino, but Allison wouldn’t have it. She forced him into some green and brown outfit in earthy, subdued tones. Kris had asked what they were supposed to be, and she’d laughed, retorting that obviously she was a fire sprite and him a wood sprite. He’d stared at her blankly, trying to understand the inner workings of his cousin’s mind and failing.

Now that they’re here, he has to admit that maybe Allison’s ideas aren’t always bad ones. He’s even rather fond of the mask she’d given him before bounding off to join her friends. It’s a deep green domino, gold vines twisting and winding their way across the surface. It’s lovely but understated, a far cry from the black and gold affair - with scarlet flames - that covered most of Allison’s face.

Kris takes in the sights around him, wondering at a mermaid with a long silver train, and gaping at the scantily-clad angel - angel, right - running after her. There’s nothing quite like this.

For all his disdain for the marriage mart, it does have its joys. It’s not all terribly boring.

Kris feels strong arms wind around his waist, pulling him back to rest against a warm body.

“Hello, Kristopher. Enjoying the party?”

Just when he’d begun to feel safe too.

“Lambert.”

Kris shoves the hands away from his hips - honestly, has the man no shame at all? - and turns around, ready to level Lambert with a glare, breath catching in his throat at his first good look at him.

He’s clad in a coat with various shades of blue that blend into each other, with a mask to match, and for the first time, Kris notices how blue Lambert’s eyes really are. He shakes his head at the thought. What is he, some simpering fool falling in love?

“Couldn’t find a conquest to fall at your feet?”

He laughs, and Kris absently notes that it’s a rather nice sound before catching himself and glaring at Lambert.

“Believe me, Kristopher, finding a willing partner isn’t something I have trouble with.” His mouth curves into an impish grin. “Although I have had a few people asking if my fiancé would mind.”

Oh no. Please, no.

“Imagine my surprise when one of them told me that they’d heard I was engaged to one Kristopher Allen.” There’s a child-like gleam in his eyes; it makes him look younger. It’s actually rather attractive - if Kris completely forgets that Lambert is absolutely despicable.

“That wasn’t my doing,” he blurts out, and Kris wants to smack himself for sounding like such a dolt. “I mean,” he says, calmer, “that my cousin, Allison - you remember Allison? - she got this silly idea in her head that you and I are a perfect match, which if you ask me, has more to do with her admiration of you than any compatibility between you and I, and I’ve been trying to tell her to forget all about it, but she told both our parents, and my brother, and all of her friends, and you know how gossipy women can get, especially during the Season and-”

Adam steps forward to take his lips in a gentle kiss. It’s rather chaste, Kris imagines, for someone like him, but it’s definitely a kiss.

It halts his rambling instantly.

When Lambert steps away, only a few seconds later, Kris splutters, staring at him with comically wide eyes.

“What was that for?”

The infuriating brute simply smiles at him. “I was worried you’d run out of air if you didn’t stop to take a breath soon. I’ve found kissing is a rather effective method of stopping a person’s babbling.”

Kris takes a deep breath, ready to start in on Lambert, but a tiny blond dressed in dark grey walks up to them. He looks back and forth between him and Lambert before turning to Lambert and shaking his head.

“We just arrived, Adam; you can’t have already found someone for the night.”

“It’s nothing, Tommy. I’m just greeting my fiancé with a kiss. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

The newcomer - Tommy - whips his head around to stare at him, goggle-eyed. Either Kris’ eyes are playing tricks on him, or there are skulls all over his mask. “Are you serious?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but Lambert steps close and puts an arm around him, tugging him closer until Kris is tucked snugly into his side. “Of course.”

Kris could kill him. Or Allison. He’s not sure which one to kill first.

He elbows Lambert’s side sharply, taking satisfaction in the pained groan it earns him. “He’s joking. Don’t you agree that his sense of humor leaves much to be desired?”

Tommy nods grimly. “I grew up with him; I’m well aware of his odd personality. I’m Tommy Ratliff, Adam’s cousin,” he says, holding a hand out to Kris. He takes it, grinning warmly at Tommy.

“Kristopher Allen. But, please, call me Kris.”

“You don’t let me call you Kris,” Adam says next to them, pouting.

They both ignore him.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. Is this the first time you’ve braved the Season?”

“It is. I’m not a big fan of the _ton_. Although the feeling’s mutual,” Tommy says, laughing. “And you? How many years have you faced the vultures?”

Kris shrugs. “Not that long. Only the past two years. But truth be told, I’m already tired of it. I don’t see the point of it all.”

“The Season? Or marriage?”

“Both. Getting married is of no interest to me.”

Not that either of them appear to notice, but Lambert is listening intently to their conversation, even though they both refuse to include him.

Kris sees red out of the corner of his eye, and braces himself.

“Adam!”

Allison races past him to throw herself into Lambert’s arms, giggling joyously when he spins her around. It’s so sweet that Kris _almost_ loses the urge to murder them both painfully. Almost.

He clears his throat loudly as Lambert puts her back on her feet. He is _so_ going to hurt her.

“Allison, Lambert here told me something you may find interesting.” She looks wary at that; Kris feels smug. Good. Let her panic.

“What was that, Kris?” she says, strategically putting Lambert and Tommy between them. Clever move, but it won’t save her.

“Apparently, people have been assuming he is now spoken for. Because he’s engaged. To me.”

“Really?” she exclaims, eyes too wide and voice too mild for it to be genuine. “Where ever would they get that idea?”

“Allison,” he growls, stalking closer.

She makes a small sound and runs behind Tommy, attempting to hide behind him with little success.

“I’m going to kill you. Slowly, and painfully. I’m going to drown your mother in praises of Gokey.”

“Now, Kris, isn’t that a little harsh?” she says, still using Tommy as a human shield.

“Not at all. I think it’s only fair that I saddle you with someone you’d rather not be associated with.” Kris feels a little bit guilty when he sees Lambert wince. “No offense meant, Lambert.”

“I’m sure,” he replies, voice cold and informal. Kris finds himself missing the overly familiar, teasing tone Lambert had been using on him.

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Let’s get this sorted out somewhere that isn’t the middle of a crowded ballroom. This isn’t exactly the ideal place to have a discussion.”

He leads them all to the sitting room, empty but for a few people. He points at the sofa and watches as the three of them sit down, Kris in-between Adam and Allison, switching between looking uncomfortable and angry.

“Alright. One of you three start talking.”

Kris crosses his arms, turning to glare ineffectually at Allison. “It’s all her fault.”

“Excuse me?” she says indignantly. “I didn’t actually say you were engaged! I just kept saying that I thought it would be fantastic if you were.”

Kris snorts, shifting further away from her. He steadfastly refuses to acknowledge that he’s not that far from ending up in Lambert’s lap. “You know how gossip works, Allison. Don’t think for a moment that I didn’t know what you were doing. You did this on purpose. Planted the idea in people’s heads and then let the rumor mill do its work.”

“So why didn’t you stop me?” she says smugly.

Kris stares at her in disbelief. “Allison Amaryllis Allen, don’t you dare try to turn this around on me!”

“Oh, for - did you just use my full name? What are you, my mother?”

“No, but I do know your mother, and when I tell her what you’ve been up to-”

“I haven’t done anything! It’s not my fault that the _ton_ is so easily swayed by rumors!”

“Allison, I love you, but you had no right to meddle in my life-”

“If you can call it a life! You’re only twenty-one, Kris, but you act like a man in his fifties. Do you even know how to have fun?”

Tommy and Lambert are utterly useless, simply watching them bicker back and forth. After Allison’s comment on Kris’ temperament, Lambert seems to regain his senses. He rises to his feet, tugging Kris up with him.

“That’s enough, you two. This isn’t the time or place to have an all-out row. Allison, you tell Tommy what exactly it is you did - or didn’t - do. I’m taking Kris outside.”

He pulls Kris along after him. He can do nothing but keep up with Lambert’s long strides, fuming silently.

~*~

Adam pushes Kris onto a bench, sits next to him, and waits. And waits. And waits.

“I could sit here all day, Kristopher.”

Silence.

“That’s alright. We don’t have to talk. We can do other things.”

He lets his hand wander onto Kris’ thigh, grinning when the expected hand grabs it and throws it off.

“I’m not in the mood, Lambert.”

“You’re saying that already? We’re not even married yet,” he says teasingly.

Adam’s met with a glare - a very adorable one - and a scowl. “That’s not funny at all.”

He raises a brow. “No? Why not?”

“Because!” Kris shouts, hands waving in the air. “You’re- and I’m- this- we aren’t engaged! I don’t even like you!”

“Oh.” Adam drops the teasing and the good humor. That actually hurt.

Kris’ eyes widen. “Oh, wait, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“But you did,” he says simply.

Kris has nothing to say to that. They sit there in an awkward silence. Adam stares ahead, intent on finding a warm body to soothe the sting, hyper aware of Kris’ constant fidgeting next to him.

“I _do_ like you.”

Like Adam believes that.

“I mean it, I do. Not willing to fall into bed with you isn’t the same as unwilling to be your friend.” He feels a warm hand on his chin, turning his head until he’s forced to meet Kris’ eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said. Forgive me?” he says with a crooked grin.

Adam feels his heart ache at the way Kris can make him weak, even now.

“I suppose.” He watches as Kris relaxes, giving Adam a genuine smile. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but, “on one condition,” he adds.

“What?” Kris asks, watching him suspiciously.

“An apology kiss.”

Adam bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the gobsmacked expression on Kris’ face. It’s not smart to keep baiting him like this, but Adam’s never been good with self-restraint. It’s just so fun to tease him.

When Kris’ face doesn’t change for several minutes after, he starts to worry. It’s unnatural for one’s expression to stay still for so long. Adam’s about to take it back, tell him it was only a joke, when Kris moves forward, shocked face gone and replaced by steely determination.

“It’s not exactly proper, but I think I owe you for the earlier insult to your character,” he says pertly, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Adam’s a bit thrown by this more relaxed Kris, teasing and smiling at him; it’s more like the one he remembers. He doesn’t say anything, merely waits, leveling a challenging stare at him. After a few silent moments of nothing but looking into each other’s eyes, Adam’s sure that his earlier comment was made in jest, not to be taken seriously.

Then Kris moves.

Lord Adam Lambert does _not_ choke up when someone kisses him. Then again, Kris could never be just someone.

It’s simple at first, a gentle press of lips on lips, soft and tender. It’s the kind of kiss Adam hasn’t had in a long time. The kisses he’s used to are harsh, demanding, a precursor to something else. This isn’t anything like that.

It’s what he had asked for: an apology.

Then Adam’s instinct kicks in.

He starts responding to the kiss, hands moving from where they’d been lying on his lap to grab the back of Kris’ neck, pulling him closer until they’re pressed against each other, almost no space between them. Adam starts off slow, taking his time. He nibbles on Kris’ bottom lip, tongue slipping in when he opens for him, the taste of him sweet and intoxicating.

It’s too much.

He has to stop this, because this isn’t right, this isn’t how he wants Kris. But he can’t bring himself to pull away, because for all that he’d never told him, then and now, he hadn’t been lying about how he’d felt; never about that.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, locked together tight, exploring each other, Adam relearning the taste and feel of him. He can feel Kris’ heart beating fast under his hand, hear the small, muffled gasps he makes when Adam pushes a little harder, makes the kiss a little rougher.

He has to stop this.

Someone else stops him before he can.

“Kris?”

They spring apart, breathing hard. Adam smoothes his coat, fixing his mask; it’d been knocked askew during the…activities. After he rights himself, he looks at Kris. He’s taken off the domino, face flushed from the heat and…other things.

His lips are swollen, red and shiny, calling out to Adam. He only barely restrains himself from kissing him again when their uninvited guest clears his throat loudly.

His glance swings to the interloper, some man with curly hair and a scowl on his face, eyes darting between Kris and Adam with barely concealed envy. Kris seems to have lost all powers of speech, because he’s sitting there uselessly, eyes on his hands, toying with his mask. The light’s bright enough for Adam to make out the bright blush on his face.

“Lord Lambert,” he offers to the intruder, standing stiffly and offering a hand.

“Giraud,” he says in reply, eyes still intent on Kris.

Adam wants to break his fingers.

His hostility doesn’t go unnoticed, because Giraud smirks at him, adding with a smug smirk, “Was I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

Kris better come out of his paralysis soon, or Adam’s name is going to be making the rounds by tomorrow morning, this time for fisticuffs instead of debauchery.

“Matt! Good to see you,” he says, standing to embrace Giraud.

Adam is definitely going to break his fingers. And his legs. And whatever other body parts he can get his hands on. He doesn’t appreciate the way Giraud practically lights up when Kris touches him.

They make small talk for a few minutes, Adam exercising all his self-control. Giraud takes far too many liberties with Kris, laying a hand on his shoulder, putting an arm around him; it’s enough to make him sick. Or murderous.

He resists for a little while longer, but when Giraud starts moving in for the kill, he breaks, grabbing Kris’ hand and starting to walk back towards the ballroom, barely giving Giraud a second glance.

“Kris, I think it’s time we found Allison and Tommy, don’t you?” Adam says with a too-sweet smile. He keeps moving them, paying no heed to Kris’ reluctance; too late, Kristopher.

“Adam, wait! I didn’t even excuse us! You have better manners than that. Most of the time.”

Adam ignores him, tugging him along until Kris huffs, giving up, and tries to match his gait. He slows his pace, keeping Kris’ slighter stature in mind. When he’s calmer, he stops them in a quiet corner, holding Kris’ shoulders and waiting until he stops pouting and looks Adam in the eye, glaring ineffectually.

“I’m sorry for dragging you off like some sort of barbarian.”

“What did you even do that for? It was uncalled for, Adam, not to mention unbelievably rude.”

Adam feels himself flush. He doesn’t embarrass easily, yet here he is, nervous and sweating at the idea of telling Kris he’s jealous over some buffoon who’s obviously - except to Kris - in love with him.

“I just- well, Kris, the reason was…”

Damn it. Where has all his eloquence gone?

Kris just stares at him, gaze unwavering and steady. He’d forgotten what it’s like to be faced with those eyes. Deadly weapons they are, dark and fathomless, calling the viewer to tell their owner all their secrets.

Adam isn’t resistant to their call - never has been, either - so he sighs, bracing himself, and tries to word it in a way that doesn’t make him sound pathetic.

“I felt Giraud was being too familiar with you. It’s not proper, Kristopher,” he adds with a wry smile, well-aware that he’s the last person to be talking about propriety.

Thankfully, Kris doesn’t clock him. He smiles, bright and brilliant, stealing Adam’s breath away.

“Just tell me the truth, Adam. That’s not so hard, is it?”

Oh, something’s hard alright, and it’s not the truth.

“Iwasjealous,” he mumbles, looking to the left of Kris’ head instead of meeting his eyes.

His lips - still swollen and very tempting - twitch. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I was jealous,” Adam repeats, words intelligible this time, but still soft.

Kris’ mouth curves into a smirk. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

“I. Was. Jealous,” he says at a normal volume, enunciating each and every consonant.

When all he gets in answer is a smug grin, he rolls his eyes, shoving at Kris’ shoulder. “I know you heard me, you little prick. Giraud was eying you like a piece of meat.”

He laughs disbelievingly at that, as if the idea of someone wanting him is absolutely preposterous. “Don’t be silly, Adam! Matt’s always looked at me that way.”

Adam should’ve broken his fingers when he had the chance.

“Exactly how long is always?”

Kris shrugs. “Since we were boys, I suppose. I’ve known him a long time.”

“I see.” Has Kris always been this clueless? Looking back on it, yes, he really has, Adam thinks fondly. He’s dreadful at noticing things like this.

They drift into a comfortable silence, standing in their little alcove, not that far away from the rest of the party. It feels like another world entirely though, like it’s just the two of them.

With the unpleasant subject of Giraud out of the way, Adam starts to wonder what Kris thought about their kiss - well, kisses, if one wanted to be more accurate. He hadn’t expected them to get as carried away as they had, but he certainly isn’t complaining.

As he’s contemplating whether or not it’s a wise idea to discuss it in such a public setting, Kris steps closer, well into his personal space; Adam gapes.

“So, now that that’s out of the way, are we done avoiding the subject of what happened before Matt appeared?”

“I wasn’t avoiding it,” he says defensively. “I was waiting until you felt comfortable bringing it up.” Adam winces as soon as the words leave his mouth; it’s utter rubbish and they both know it.

Kris nods anyway, letting it go. “Well, I’m bringing it up now. Would you care to join me in talking about it, or shall I seek out Tommy instead and see what he thinks?”

“Why Tommy?” he says before he can help it. They only met an hour or so ago. Did Kris latch onto everyone except Adam this quickly?

“Because Allison will take this as more fuel for her matchmaking fire.”

All the more reason to go to her instead of Tommy, in Adam’s opinion.

“Would you like to go back onto the terrace and discuss this there? It’s more secluded, less prying eyes and ears.”

Kris rolls his eyes, dismissing the option immediately. “Not a chance, Lambert. I see that look in your eyes. You may as well forget it; we aren’t continuing where we left off.”

Adam sighs. “Fine. We’ll only talk. Your virtue is safe from me, Kristopher.”

“Pardon me for not taking you at your word.”

“I promise, Kris. Nothing untoward will happen if we return to the terrace; I shall be a perfect gentleman.” That is, if he can remember how to act as one. He thinks he shall have difficulties remembering things like decency, and what precisely is considered respectable behavior, if he’s left alone with Kris for too long.

“You know how to do that?” He says it with a crooked grin, obviously teasing Adam.

He reminds himself that they are well within the view of the _ton_ , and while it wouldn’t bother him, Kris may object to being gossiped about because Adam lost his sensibilities and ravished him in public.

“I do have self-control, Kristopher - no matter what you may think.”

“You have yet to give me cause to believe in your supposed self-control.”

Despite his words to the contrary, Kris seems to trust Adam enough to take his hand and lead him back onto the terrace, conspicuously avoiding the bench that had been the site of their earlier tryst.

He almost laughs at how anxious Kris seems. He’s not looking at Adam directly and fidgeting constantly, mouth opening occasionally as if to speak, then closing without a word being said. For all his bravado and nonchalance earlier, he’s just as nervous as Adam. It puts him at ease.

“If you wish, I will take full responsibility for it. It was my fault it escalated the way it did.”

Kris shakes his head, finally finding speech. “No, we were both at fault. I didn’t stop you.” He pauses, blushing brightly. “Actually, I don’t know if I would have stopped at all if Matt hadn’t happened by when he did.”

Adam makes a mental note to find out where Giraud lives.

“Is that so?” he asks, unable to stop the satisfied smile on his face.

Kris rolls his eyes. “As infuriating as you can be, your reputation is deserving.”

Is he saying that Adam’s a good kisser?

“Are you complimenting me?” He puts a hand on Kris’ thigh, beaming when it isn’t shoved away.

“Don’t let your head get too swollen, Lambert. I’m only admitting that you, in fact, have redeeming qualities. That they are related to carnal matters is rather telling.”

“You didn’t receive the full experience last time, Kristopher. Would you like to?”

Adam pouts when Kris pushes his hand away from where it’d been resting on his leg.

“I think not. It’s bad enough that the entire _ton_ seems to have gone daft and believes you and I are engaged or some such nonsense.”

“Is the idea of being bound to me that terrible?”

His voice is soft, all teasing gone. Kris looks at him for a long moment, saying nothing, watching him with those eyes. Deep, dark and unfathomable, piercing right into his soul and looking into his very being, weighing if the man it belongs to is worth anything.

“No.”

That is all Adam gets in answer, but it’s all he needs. The rest of Kris’ response is in the dark sweep of his lashes against his cheeks as his eyes become half-lidded, his heated gaze flitting from Adam’s eyes to his mouth and then back again.

He pulls Kris close once more, pressing their foreheads together, eyes falling shut. Adam can feel Kris’ breath against his lips, so close but not quite touching. He nips his bottom lip lightly, groaning softly at the shiver he feels run through Kris.

He wants to, but this time, he needs to know, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” Kris whispers against his mouth, pressing their lips together fiercely.

Adam had meant to keep it gentle, restrained, making sure that they didn’t get swept away like they had before. Faced with Kris’ passion, he surrenders, forgoing tenderness when he slides into Adam’s lap, teeth biting sharply at his lips when he stills in surprise.

He gives his hands free reign, greedily touching whatever of Kris he can reach. He vaguely hears soft mewing, smiling into the kiss when he realizes that Kris is the one making the sounds. Adam has missed those noises.

He breaks away from Kris’ lips, hushing the whine it earns him. He placates Kris by kissing down his jaw line, pulling him even closer until they’re pressed together everywhere.

They’re both panting harshly, loud in the silence.

When Kris registers that it’s far too quiet, he scrambles out of Adam’s lap, sitting on the very edge of the bench, as far away from Adam as possible.

He sighs. He’d been expecting Kris to panic, but he’d been hoping that he would be proven wrong; this is one time Adam would have welcomed it.

He stands up, refusing to look at Kris. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t care. He takes one last look at him before walking back to the quiet house, leaving Kris sitting there alone in the empty terrace, eyes staring into space, unseeing.

~*~

What the hell had he just done?

Kris only vaguely registers Adam leaving. He wants to call out after him, but the words get stuck in his throat.

The entire night had felt like a dream.

He needs to get out of here. He needs to go home, get out of this costume, and stop thinking foolish thoughts. The masque had played tricks with his mind, luring him too deep into its fantasy world.

He isn’t entirely sure how it happens, but he finds Allison, the ballroom empty except for a few stragglers. Thankfully, he’s spared her questions because she falls asleep in the carriage. She’s drowsy and pliant when he wakes her, walking her up to her room and managing a fond smile at the way she collapses onto the bed and settles back into sleep instantly. Kris can’t even find the energy to scold her for the scotch - who had given her scotch? - he can smell on her breath.

At least one of them had had a good time.

He undresses, throwing the clothes into a far corner, barely resisting the impulse to throw them into the fireplace. He doesn’t want to think, about the masque, about Adam, about anything. He crawls into bed, pulling the covers up over his head, and shuts his eyes tight, trying to forget.

~*~

 _Kris was scared._

 _He didn’t know what was happening, or what he was doing here, but he knew it couldn’t be good. Being kidnapped in the dead of night only meant horrible things were in store._

 _He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but when he woke up, he was in a small bedroom, not the carriage he blurrily recalled seeing before when he’d woken for just a moment._

 _Who took him? What did they want from him, or from his family?_

 _He was afraid what those answers might be._

 _The room wasn’t very large and didn’t appear to have any windows. It was dominated mostly by the large bed that Kris was on. The blankets felt expensive, a fine material that felt silky against his fingertips._

 _Where was he?_

 _The doorknob started to turn._

 _He froze, trying to decide what was the best course of action. Should he pretend he was still unconscious and try to catch his kidnapper by surprise? Should he let it be known that he was awake and demand to know what was going on?_

 _His captor stepped in, a tall, dark shadow in the dim light of the room._

 _“Are you alright?”_

 _Kris stared at him disbelievingly. “You knocked me out with chloroform, kidnapped me from my home in the dead of night, and are keeping me captive. And you’re asking if I’m alright?”_

 _His kidnapper laughed, a rich, joyous sound that Kris thought he would like if he’d heard it under different circumstances. “It’s nothing personal. I was hired to take you, so I did. You will be returned to your family safe and sound if they pay the ransom.”_

 _“And if they don’t?”_

 _“They will. My employer isn’t the sort to make idle threats.”_

 _Kris felt his heart stop. “Threats?”_

 _“I believe he’s going to kill you if his demands aren’t met.”_

 _“And you’d let him?”_

 _“What happens to you after my job is done is none of my concern.”_

 _He’d never felt so helpless. Kris felt tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. He bit his lip, trying to stem the flow until after his captor left._

 _He refused to cry in front of him._

 _But he didn’t leave. He just stood there in the shadows, watching Kris silently. The tears fell, unbidden. He was scared, and he just wanted to go home._

 _He laid back down, turned away from his silent guard, and let himself cry._

 _He just wanted to go home._

~*~

It’s as if he hasn’t slept at all.

He feels jittery and anxious, unsettled. Last night, he’d dreamt endlessly.

Kris doesn’t dream. At least, not that he remembers. If he does, it’s the kind that fade away the more he tries to recall them. He doesn’t remember them vividly, isn’t normally able to recall every detail as if were happening before his eyes.

He’d dreamt of Adam.

They’d been in some quiet glade, surrounded by trees, clad in their costumes. Adam had been beautiful; Kris will never deny that. He’d reached out to touch him, watching in fascination as the blues darkened, shifting into a deep midnight blue wherever his touch went.

Adam had been still beneath his wandering hands, the blues darkening until he seemed like a dark shadow in the midst of all the green. When Kris was done, Adam had stilled his hands, holding them tightly in his grasp.

They’d kissed.

Kris had lost himself in it, hands clutching at Adam’s shoulders, pulling him as close as possible. He felt his coat slipping off his shoulders, the rest of his clothing following soon after. Adam broke the kiss, hands caressing him everywhere. Kris was easy, arching into the touch he felt along his waist, the curve of his hips, warm palms resting against his flesh comfortably, grip possessive and gentle.

When he’d opened his eyes, Adam was gone, replaced by a masked figure, one that he hadn’t thought of in years.

His mysterious kidnapper.

He’d struggled then, trying desperately to escape the touch that only moments ago he’d welcomed. His kidnapper had laughed - that damn laugh - and hushed him, told him to be still; he wouldn’t hurt him.

He’d woken up sweating profusely, legs tangled in the sheets.

Kris hasn’t thought of what happened, not for a long time. He’d shoved it to the back of his mind, burying it under other thoughts to weigh it down, to keep it where it belonged.

He’s made it a point not to think of those long ago winter months.

He shakes his head, trying to clear away the dark thoughts that lurk there. He has more important things to think of than his youthful foolishness.

His mother and aunt have been in a tizzy the entire morning. Kris’ head hurts just to hear them talk. Apparently, Gokey has stepped up his courtship, making it quite clear that he is sincere in his interest in Allison.

His aunt is dithering on the matter. She knows that Gokey is a rather nice match, in terms of wealth and title, and as pompous and self-absorbed as can be, Kris knows that there’s a good heart underneath it all; he wouldn’t fear for Allison’s well-being if she were in his hands.

The problem is that Allison fervently opposes the match and has been incredibly vocal about her feelings.

He knows she is holding out for a love match, but while they’re more common than they used to be, they still aren’t the norm. She’s only setting herself up for heartbreak.

He knocks on her door, waiting for Allison’s “come in” before opening the door.

They had grown up together, circumstances forcing Allison and her mother to live with them after his uncle had died, lost at sea when a storm had struck his ship. He’d been away on trips to the East a lot of the time, but he’d doted on Allison.

She barely remembers her father though, and perhaps Kris has been a bit overzealous over the years to make up for the father she lacked. She’s like a sister, nearer and dearer a sibling to him than Daniel.

His mother had subtly - by this he means she told him it was his duty to talk some sense into Allison - encouraged him to advise his cousin. Kris wishes it hadn’t fallen on his shoulders, but if anyone can talk her into seeing reason, it’s him.

She’s sitting at her vanity, running an ivory-handled brush through the bright red strands. His eyes meet her reflection’s, unsurprised to find a scowl there when she notices him.

“I’ve had my mother and yours at my throat all morning; I’d thank you not to join their ranks.”

“Funny how having a match forced upon you seems less exciting when you’re on the inside.”

Allison winces at that, putting the brush down and turning to face him. “I’m sorry, Kris. You know I meant well.”

“I know you did. But you shouldn’t have done it at all, Allison. It wasn’t your place to meddle.”

“Aren’t you meddling in my matters by being here to discuss what you’re going to discuss?”

“You know this is different.”

“How?” she asks, grimacing and crossing her arms.

“For one, Gokey is courting you; it’s official. We know his intentions to be honorable. Adam is a disreputable rake with no interest in me except for the physical.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t seen the way he looks at you, Kris! It’s breathtaking,” she breaths, dreamy-eyed and smiling.

“Don’t look for love stories elsewhere because you can’t find your own.”

Allison blanches at that, smile disappearing; he regrets the words instantly. Kris kneels in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“I’m sorry, Allison, that was uncalled for. I just, you know I love you; you mean the world to me. I want you to rethink this love business. I’ve seen what happens what it goes wrong. It isn’t somewhere you want to be.”

He’s been like her once, starry-eyed and hopeful, sure that the world was full of all sorts of wonderful things. Kris had grown up rather sheltered, well-educated in scholarly subjects, but knowing very little of other matters. At eighteen, he’d been more green than any of his mates.

 _“Do you love me?”_

 _“More than life.”_

He had been so naïve.

He doesn’t want to see Allison suffer as he had.

She jerks her hands away from his. “What do you know of love? You keep all suitors at arm’s length, guarding yourself vigilantly. No one is worth your time or affection. I would rather risk heartache than be like you.”

Kris recoils, stung by the harsh truth of her words. He doesn’t let people close, not if he can help it. She doesn’t understand.

“I know more about love than you think, Allison,” he whispers, remembering nights long past, filled with stolen kisses and ardent promises of forever.

She lets out a biting laugh. “Pardon me for not believing you. You’re still young, Kristopher, but eventually, people will get tired of trying to break through your defenses. Hard-to-get is only fun for a little while. Sooner or later, you’ll end up alone.”

He stands, walking over to Allison’s bed and sitting down, wrapping his arms around himself, trying not to remember. “You’re right. But I’d rather be alone than feel that way ever again. Love isn’t as wonderful as you believe it is, Allison.”

Kris closes his eyes, trying to stem the memories that are threatening to overflow. He’s spent so long trying to forget. One dream, and two years of hard work are unraveling rapidly.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there like that, but when he opens his eyes, Allison is in front of him with concerned eyes.

“Kris?”

When he was eighteen, he’d been abducted and held for ransom. For months, he’d lived in a state of perpetual terror. Whoever had arranged the kidnapping had never been discovered. Kris had never come face-to-face with them, only interacting with the masked man who had been hired to take him from his home and keep watch over him until the job was complete. He hadn’t told anyone then, or now, of all that had transpired during that time.

“Do you remember, Allison, a few years ago, when I was kidnapped?”

“Of course! How could I ever forget? I’ve never been so scared, Kris. I thought I would never see you again.”

Her crueler side has receded, overtaken by concern for him. And, he imagines, no small amount of curiosity. After he had come home, he’d staunchly refused to talk about what had happened while he was in captivity. They will continue their argument later - he’s sure - but for now, she’s more interested in the possibility of Kris breaking his two year silence.

“I’m alright now, Allison. I came home safe and sound - unharmed.” On the surface at least.

“But?” she prods.

“I was terrified. I kept wondering if each day would be my last. I still don’t know who orchestrated the whole thing, but I learned quite a bit from the man who was playing my guard. He never let me see his face, not once - probably so I wouldn’t be able to identify him later on - and he never left my side. He was with me every hour of the day.

I fell in love with him.”

Kris hears her soft, shocked gasp, but he can’t bear to look at her right now. He’s been avoiding the memories for so long, and now they’re overwhelming him. If he looks at her, he won’t be able to keep going.

“I hated him at first. He was callous, casually commenting on how little my fate mattered to him. He was there constantly, never leaving me be. I only spoke to him when I needed to.

“Then I snapped. I was so frustrated with him, with feeling like a pathetic, defenseless creature, that I talked back. He was going on about how surely my family didn’t care, because too much time had passed, and I told him to shut up. I told him that if he didn’t have anything to say to me other than vicious taunts and asinine comments, then he should just stay silent. He didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

“The morning after that, he came to me and apologized. He said that he had nothing against me, only that he was forced to do the job he’d been hired to do. He hadn’t meant any of the things he’d said before. He just couldn’t bear to see someone look so defeated, and the only thing he could think of to rouse me was by being cruel.”

Kris almost smiles at the memory. He’d become indignant after hearing that explanation, hurling pillows at him viciously, railing about how he had to be the daftest man he’d ever met if that was what passed for logic in his brain. His captor had goggled at him before laughing gleefully. Kris had stopped his attack to stare at him before joining in. It was the first time he’d laughed since he’d been taken.

That night had been the beginning for them.

“He changed after that. He was kind to me. Before I knew it, we had a sort of rapport between us. He told me all sorts of things. How he felt, what he thought, all the things that he’d never said to anyone else. I’d learnt a lot about who he was, and yet I never had a face or name to put to him. I still don’t understand how it happened, but I realized one day that I’d been gone nearly two months and I hadn’t even noticed it.”

“Why?” Allison asks quietly, like she’s afraid that if she speaks too loudly, Kris will stop telling her what happened.

“Because of him.”

He gets off the bed, his anxiety growing too fast to be contained. He tells her the rest of the story in short bursts, pacing furiously.

“I told him. I told him that I thought I was starting to fall in love with him. I told him that I knew it was stupid, and that I shouldn’t, but I was, and I knew nothing would ever happen, but he…”

He’d kissed Kris. He’d grabbed him by the shoulders and made him stop talking by claiming his mouth, making his knees grow weak and his body tremble.

“He told me that it wasn’t stupid at all. Because he felt the same way.”

“Kris…”

“And I believed him. I believed him because despite everything, I thought I knew him. I thought that he was being honest with me and that he meant it, every word.”

He stops in the middle of the room, all the anxious energy from before suddenly melting away; he’s tired.

“He lied. Of course he lied. He told me the day before I was brought back home. I was just a toy to him, an amusement to keep him entertained until his job was done. Once his employer was given the ransom, he wanted nothing more to do with me. I was nothing.”

He flinches away from the light touch of Allison’s hand on his shoulder.

“The heartbreak isn’t worth it, Allison, no matter what anyone says.”

She reaches out to him again, and this time, he doesn’t react. Even when she puts her arms around him and hugs him tight, crying into his shoulder and telling him she’s “sorry, so sorry,” he feels nothing.

He feels numb.

~*~

“Rise and shine, you big oaf! It’s nearly noon,” someone yells cheerfully into his ear.

He burrows deeper under the covers, trying in vain to drown out the voice. Then the covers are yanked away, the bright sunshine flooding the room assaulting his eyes. He groans loudly in displeasure and throws an arm over his eyes, trying to shuffle away from the annoying relative perched on the edge of his bed.

Adam hates Tommy. Seriously.

“Sod off, Tommy. M’not in the mood to deal with you. Well, I never am, but especially right now.”

He rolls over - right onto a warm body. Oh. He’d forgotten about that.

The body beneath his starts moving, his bedmate just starting to wake. This is going to get awkward very quickly.

“Mmm. Good morning, gorgeous. Last night was _amazing_. The rumor mill didn’t let me down - this time,” his companion says, stretching as much as he can while Adam’s lying on top of him.

“Tommy. Leave. _Now._ ”

He complies, barely muffling his giggles the entire time. When he shuts the bedroom door behind him, Adam can hear the loud guffaws echoing in the hallway.

He _really_ hates Tommy.

He sighs and turns to look the intruder in his bed in the eye, bracing himself for the worst. The familiar brown eyes he meets makes his eyes widen in shock, and his voice go up an octave.

“Brad?”

“Nice to see you too, Adam,” he says breezily.

“What? How? Why? What the hell are you doing in my bed?”

Brad laughs, the sound making Adam smile unconsciously. “You dragged me here, handsome.”

“I _what_?”

Oh, this is bad. This is really bad.

He’d known that he’d felt less than stellar last night, and maybe that had resulted in him drinking himself into oblivion, but there was no amount of liquor that could make him bed Brad - again - and not remember it. Or agree to it.

They’d had an affair a year ago, insane, passionate, and harmful to Adam’s health. He’s happy that they managed to forge a friendship afterwards - long afterwards - but they’d both agreed that if they wanted to live a long life, a relationship between them was not the way to do so.

So, why, _why_ , is Brad in his bed?

He’d been upset after what had happened with Kris, but this? This is akin to suicidal levels of upset. And while Adam hates everything right now, he doesn’t hate everything that much.

“Oh, Adam. You don’t remember what happened at all last night, do you?” he says, eyes soft and compassionate.

He shakes his head no and waits for Brad to fill in the gaps. “I remember I tried to get foxed. After that, it’s all a bit of a blur.”

“You and I ran into each other. I could tell you were drunk. Not just that, but you were five seconds away from sobbing! I couldn’t just leave you like that, Adam. I remembered where the townhouse was so I brought you home, poured you into bed and was about to leave - I’d done my good deed for the day - but you grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go.”

Oh god. Please, please, _please_ don’t let Brad’s next words be something along the lines of “you told me about this man and how he’d broken your heart all over again”.

“You pulled me onto the bed - you brute - and held me, crying into my hair. Which I am very upset about, by the way.”

Oh thank god. He hadn’t said anything incriminating.

“You kept saying a name over and over again.”

Damn.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Brad shakes his head. “No. I couldn’t understand you at all, Adam. You were inconsolable. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, Brad.” At the skeptical look he receives, he sighs, rolling his eyes, “I’d rather not talk about it. Just let it go for now; please.”

He stares at Adam for a while, sharp, intelligent eyes studying him. Eventually, Brad nods, and he relaxes.

“But I want to know later, Adam.”

“Fine. I’ll tell you,” he says hastily, eager to get Brad out of his room. “Just go downstairs and talk to Tommy or something. I’ll join the two of you as soon as I’m ready.”

“Alright,” Brad says reluctantly, getting off the bed and heading towards the door. “I’m going to ask if he can give me something new to wear. And run a bath. I have your snot in my hair and I’d like to remove it as quickly as possible.”

He laughs, feeling a little bit lighter. Brad is good for him - as a friend. “You do that. I’ll be there shortly.”

He opens the door, stepping through, but before he shuts it, he looks back at Adam, dark eyes solemn. “Don’t take too long, Adam. I’m not letting you off the hook on this one.”

The click of the lock sounds ominous.

Adam isn’t looking forward to going downstairs.

~*~

Kris avoids Allison for the rest of the day.

He’d broken in her arms that morning, crying for what felt like hours. She’d held him the entire time, trying her best to soothe even though she knew it was hopeless.

Every time he looks at her, her eyes are bright with tears. It’s not a sight he enjoys. She knows the truth now, and it’s evident in the way she treats him. She looks at him as if he’s about to break, touches him like he’s a delicate Ming vase, fragile and easily destroyed.

This is why he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. But he and Allison have always told each other everything, and this had been the only exception.

Kris isn’t weak. He had been gullible then, too trusting, but that’s changed. He’s stronger and smarter now, not as easily fooled. She doesn’t seem to realize that.

He knows how she feels about his defenses. She thinks them stupid and unnecessary, that he is missing out on life by refusing to let anyone in.

Allison thinks she knows better than him.

He doesn’t want to fall in love again. He doesn’t want to have his heart broken. He would rather live with his heart intact, alone, than be in love with someone; he won’t give anyone that sort of power over him. Never again.

Kris won’t budge on this, no matter how insistent Allison is; she’s not the only stubborn one in this family.

Unfortunately, Kris had forgotten that he’s supposed to escort her to a recital tonight. Neither of their mothers will be there; it will be just the two of them. He steps into the carriage with a feeling of dread. As soon as the door closes, she starts in on him.

“Stop being a coward, Kris!” she shouts at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. She pauses, hands and tone gentling. “You’re better than that.”

“Allison, please; leave it alone,” he says softly, eyes downcast. He doesn’t want to do this, not now.

“Kris-”

“Stop. I love you, Allison, but this is not something you’re allowed to have a say in. It’s in the past; leave it there.”

She doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride. When the carriage stops, he bolts for the door, waving away the footman about to offer his hand. He’s halfway down the street when Allison catches up, taking his arm in hers. Her grip is ironclad, painful and immovable.

“If it’s in the past, why are you still so affected by it? I have never seen you so upset, Kris. You say that I have no right to interfere, but you don’t see what I see; you’re hurting yourself by going on as you are. You deserve to be happy,” she says fervently, eyes alight with passion.

“Allison,” he sighs. He can’t make her understand why any better than she can convince him that she’s right. “I never said I didn’t. I’m simply firm in my belief that my happiness doesn’t hinge upon some sort of great romance. I have my family. I have you, my parents, Daniel; that’s enough for me. I don’t need a spouse.”

“What about children? I know you love them. You would make a great father, Kris.”

“There are urchins all over London that could use a home. I wouldn’t mind providing them with one,” he says promptly. “Now promise me that you won’t speak of this anymore. You have your own affairs to be concerned about. No need to worry about me too.”

The look he gives her when she begins to open her mouth makes her close it, keeping silent. Kris doesn’t lose his temper often, but when he does, it’s something to be reckoned with. She knows she’s trying his patience.

They’ve reached the hall where the recital is to be held, members of the _ton_ bustling about and mingling. Allison is accosted by one of her friends, a sweet, soft-spoken boy named David, and Kris sighs in relief. She can be exhausting.

“Kris!”

He’s suddenly embraced exuberantly. It takes him a moment to figure out who it is.

“Tommy!”

He returns the hug enthusiastically, relieved to see that Adam’s nowhere in sight. Kris ignores the part of him that’s disappointed.

“Where is your lovely cousin?” Tommy asks, craning his neck to peer into the crowd.

“I could ask the same of you,” he mutters. Kris resists the impulse to smack himself in the head. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Oh, he’s off somewhere. He ran into an old mate last night and they’re catching up. I’m sure he’ll be here soon. Adam seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to your whereabouts,” he says, smirking.

Kris laughs, uncomfortable, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously. He knows that he owes Adam an explanation of some sort, perhaps an apology, but he’d rather not think about it.

He hears a familiar laugh from behind him, combined with a higher, tinkling one, and grimaces.

Speak of the devil.

“Why, Kristopher. What a pleasant surprise.”

Kris winces at the saccharine, insincere sound of Adam’s voice. He deserves it. He turns to face him, heart stopping when he sees the petite brunet standing next to him. It’s none of his business who Adam spends his time with. Or what he does with that time. “Adam,” he says in reply, tone carefully neutral.

Adam stares at him, obviously surprised. Kris has referred to him, for the most part, only by his surname, and when he hasn’t, it’s been only in private. This is certainly not a private moment.

“How are you?”

It’s Kris’ turn to be shocked. He’d stepped closer to Kris when he’d asked, seemingly without conscious thought. Adam is acting more like himself now, genuine concern evident in his face and voice.

“As well as can be expected,” is all he lets himself say. With Tommy and Adam’s mysterious friend watching them intently, he can’t tell him all the things he wants to. “Could we have a moment? I’d like to speak with you privately.”

Adam freezes up again, sincerity melting away in the blink of an eye. “I’d rather not,” he says stiffly.

Kris feels his face fall, unable to keep the distress off his features. Adam’s friend lets out a cry, walking over to Kris and putting an arm around him, cooing at him soothingly.

“Adam! Don’t be so rude to this delightful creature; you’re simply precious. Don’t mind him - he can be downright oafish sometimes. He seems to forget how to treat those of us who don’t fall at his feet swooning.” The whirlwind stops to take a breath. “I’m Brad. Well, Bradley, but I much prefer Brad, and sod the _ton_ ’s thoughts on the matter.”

Kris grudgingly admits that Brad is rather endearing in his own eccentric way. “Kris,” he says, trying to fight back the blush threatening to rise. It’s bad enough that a stranger had immediately noticed how upset the refusal made him. No need to make it more humiliating by resembling a tomato.

“Kris. You’ll have to excuse Adam. If he doesn’t want to speak to you alone, well, I certainly will.”

With that, he’s getting tugged away from Adam and Tommy, the former looking furious and the latter incredibly amused.

He’s not entirely sure what just happened, but he has a feeling that it won’t end well.

~*~

Adam adds Brad to the list of people he wants to murder.

Why is it that everyone he meets seems to latch onto Kris like a limpet? Does he have some sort of secret power that attracts them?

“Are you alright, Adam? You look like you want to strangle someone,” Tommy says, obviously barely keeping his composure.

Stupid bastard finds everything so amusing.

“I’m fine,” he grits out, clenching his hands into fists and feeling the press of his nails into his palms. He lets the pain center him. “I simply wasn’t expecting that.”

Tommy scoffs. “Rubbish! I saw your face when you realized who I was talking to. I’ve never seen you move so fast in my life, and that includes that time when we were fifteen when- ow!” He rubs the back of his head, stinging from the swat Adam had landed on it. “That wasn’t necessary. I don’t know what the matter is between you and Kris, but I’d prefer it if you resolved it quickly.”

“What difference does it make to you?” he growls, eyes darting around the crowded room, trying to pick out Brad and Kris and failing; why were they both so damn small?

“I’d rather that my future wife’s cousin and my own got along,” Tommy says nonchalantly, smirking when Adam doesn’t react.

He doesn’t seem to register his words for a moment, but when he does, he rounds on Tommy, eyes glittering dangerously. “What did you just say?”

“I said,” he starts, but gets cut off by Adam’s angry exclamation.

“I know what you said, you dolt! What I don’t know is how exactly that happened. You and Allison only met last night. There’s no possible way a marriage has already been arranged.”

“Well, perhaps I’m speaking prematurely, but she and I got to know each other rather well while you and Kris were off ‘speaking’” Tommy says with a grin.

“How well?”

He rolls his eyes at Adam’s overprotective streak acting up - and over Allison instead of his own cousin, no less. “Not like that. We spent a lot of time talking - _just_ talking. She’s a fascinating woman.” And bloody hell could she drink. She’d polished off most of his scotch last night. He’d been so impressed he hadn’t even been that upset to find his flask empty.

Adam rearranges his list and puts Tommy at the top. He’d be the easiest to kill anyway. He lives with Adam, he’s smaller than Adam, not as strong as Adam, and tiny enough that his body will be easy to hide. He’s ready to carry out his plan when Allison flounces over, throwing her arms around him and wrapping him in an embrace.

“Adam!”

He shelves the murder plans for later, pasting a smile onto his face that he hopes is convincing.

“Hello, my dear. You look lovely tonight.”

She mock-curtsies, a mischievous smile on her face. “Thank you, kind sir. You look rather dashing yourself,” Allison says impishly, looking like the young lady she is. The young, seventeen-year-old lady she is.

There is no way he’s letting Tommy marry her.

“Have you seen Kristopher? I lost him when I ran into David,” she says, bringing his and Tommy’s attention to the boy standing behind her, dark-haired and slender, biting his lip nervously.

“Lord Lambert, but please, call me Adam,” he says kindly, feeding the fatherly instinct in him that wants to soothe the anxious young man.

“David Cook,” he says hesitantly.

Tommy raises a brow. “I know David Cook. You are definitely _not_ David Cook.”

David blushes becomingly. “Well, I’m, umm, married to him?” he says, sounding so unsure that Adam thinks it’s either a joke or a new development. David doesn’t look like the type to joke about marriage, so he assumes it’s the latter.

Tommy snaps his fingers, realization on his face. “Of course! You’re the boy Cook kept going on about. He’s so damn besotted with you. It’s nice to see that he finally did something about it.”

“Wait,” Adam says, “if you’re both named David, doesn’t it get, well, confusing?”

David opens his mouth to answer, but Allison cuts in, looking gleeful. “Cook calls him Archie - his surname before he was wed was Archuleta. You should see them when they’re together. It’s simply adorable.”

David - Archie - blushes even brighter, politely asking Allison to please stop talking. Adam has the strong urge to pet his hair and cuddle him. He’s so endearingly shy that he can’t help wanting to.

Then an auburn-haired man comes up to them, encircling Archie in his arms. He presses a soft kiss to Archie’s temple, grinning widely at the way it makes him blush even brighter.

Adam starts worrying about Archie’s face and wondering if it’s normal for a person to be that red.

“I was speculating about your whereabouts when I spotted a certain young lady’s distinctive hair.”

Allison grins apologetically. “Sorry, Cook. I had to steal your husband away for a moment. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen him. He hasn’t had time for me since he snatched you up,” she says teasingly.

“Allison,” Archie says, embarrassed.

Cook laughs, the idiotic smile on his face so big it looks like his face will split in half. “No, it’s okay; she’s right. I just can’t bear to have you out of my sight,” he says, adoration plain in his voice.

Adam suddenly finds that it’s painful to look at them.

“Excuse me, but I need some fresh air. I’ll be on the balcony if any of you need me.”

He walks away without waiting for a reply from any of them, ignoring Tommy’s attempt to grab his arm and stop him.

Adam maneuvers his way through the throng, ignoring the bell announcing that the recital is about to start. It’s probably going to be dreadful anyway; he’s heard numerous horror stories about the Delafield girls’ recitals. He climbs up the stairs, finding the upstairs sitting room sparsely occupied, the balcony doors wide open.

He nods his obligatory greetings to a few of the men present, striding towards the balcony. It’s quiet, peaceful, and he sighs when he breathes in, his lungs filling with the crisp night air. It makes the knot in his chest loosen a fraction.

He looks to his left and sees two figures locked in an embrace; his heart stops. One is whispering soothing words to the other, kissing their forehead and stroking their back in small, comforting circles.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Kris jumps out of Brad’s arms as if he’s been struck by lightening.

~*~

Nothing happened.

It’s what Kris wants to say as soon as he realizes Adam’s there.

But it doesn’t matter if anything happened, because Kris is none of Adam’s concern. He’d looked stricken before he’d schooled his features, but he’s sure that Brad is the reason for that.

Kris isn’t anything to Adam.

“Hey there, beautiful. Care to join us?” Brad asks cheerily, pointedly ignoring the way Adam and Kris are staring at each other, the tension between them growing thicker, so oppressive Brad thinks that he could choke on it.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he says sardonically, eyes pinning Kris with a gaze so cold he forgets how to breathe.

“You aren’t,” Kris says quietly.

Brad is looking between the two of them, eyes sharp and observant. Whatever he sees, it makes him step away from Kris, obviously intending to leave the two of them alone.

“I’m going to head inside. The recital’s about to start and I wouldn’t want to miss it,” he says with a sly grin. “Have fun, you two!”

Kris stares at him with wide eyes as he leaves, pouting when all he gets is a headshake; Brad is leaving him to fix this on his own.

Beside him, Adam snorts. “That lying snake. He hates these sorts of things. He’s only here because I made him come.”

“I know.” At Adam’s questioning look, he elaborates. “He told me.”

“Oh? Is that what the two of you were doing up here, all alone? Talking?” Adam has a vicious tongue, each word razor-sharp, his lips curled in a contemptuous sneer.

“Don’t be cruel,” Kris says plaintively. “I didn’t want to be alone with you so that you could aim insult after insult at me.”

“What did you want to do then, Allen? Have another tryst? You have yet to learn of all my talents.”

He crowds closer, maneuvering them so that Kris’ back is against the wall, staring up at Adam with wide, frightened eyes. This isn’t going the way he’d planned. This isn’t Adam, not this man with his icy eyes and impassive face, touch impersonal and invasive.

“Adam, stop, please.”

Despite his words, he doesn’t want him to. He wants to grab Adam and pull him close and kiss him until they can’t breathe, but he can’t; he shouldn’t. Even if he let himself give in, he doesn’t want Adam like this, cold anger running through his veins and burning Kris with its intensity.

“Why? I know you want this. I don’t expect anything from you, Kris. I can have my way with you, and that will be it; we’ll go our separate ways. Not everything has to be about love and marriage,” he says softly into Kris’ ear, making him shiver at the feeling.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers, eyes falling shut.

Adam startles at that, moving away to look Kris in the eye. “What?”

“I may want you, but not enough to risk losing your friendship.” Or whatever it is that’s between them. He looks down, unable to meet Adam’s gaze. Kris doesn’t know what he’ll find there, and he’s not sure he wants to find out.

“Kris, we aren’t friends. We barely know each other,” Adam says, sounding incredulous.

“Would it be so bad if we were?”

The words are similar to the ones Adam had asked last night, before it had all gone so wrong.

“I-” he cuts himself off, looking down at Kris, speechless. “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do,” he insists stubbornly. “I’m saying that I want you in my life, but not like this. We can’t keep going on the way we have been, or my mother will start making wedding preparations with Allison at her side, encouraging her.”

Adam gives him a look. “Have you gone mad? We know nothing about each other, Kris. The most intimate thing I know about you is that you like to be bitten.”

Kris feels himself flush. That’s rather intimate, in his opinion. “We can learn. You can be irritating and obnoxious,” he keeps going, ignoring the indignant noise Adam makes, “but you’re also kind. You aren’t just Lord Lambert, disreputable rake; you’re more than that,” he says earnestly.

Adam gives him another look and shakes his head. “You are the strangest man I have ever met, Kristopher. You let me ravish you - more than once, I might add - and now you’re telling me that you only want my friendship?”

“We only kissed!” Ravishing makes it sound so tawdry. “I just, I want-” Kris shuts his mouth, unable to find the right words. He can’t explain it, any of it.

Adam makes him feel things. New, scary things that Kris doesn’t want any part of. But he can’t bring himself to eradicate Adam’s presence from his life completely. Because despite the terrifying feelings Adam evokes in Kris, he makes him feel good things too. He makes Kris laugh, and smile, and feel freer than he has in what seems like forever.

But he can’t say that; he won’t say that.

Instead, he stares at Adam silently, trying to tell him with nothing but his eyes. He stares at Kris for a long while. Neither of them move, and Kris feels like he can’t even breathe.

“Alright.”

He jerks his head up to look at Adam, unsure. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he says fondly, a slight smile curving his lips. “I can’t say that I understand your logic, but I’ll agree to it. Friends?” he asks, holding a hand out for Kris to shake.

“Friends,” he says, ignoring the hand and pulling Adam into a warm embrace.

After a moment of stunned stillness, Kris feels his arms come up to return the hold. They fit together rather nicely, he notes absently.

~*~

He and Kris grow close as the weeks pass. They spend a lot of time together, sometimes in the company of others, but most often by themselves. Adam is endlessly fascinated.

Kris is everything and nothing like he was before.

Adam is getting to know him all over again, and although he doesn’t intend to, he starts keeping a mental list of all the things about him that have changed.

Less open, less trusting, less happy, less everything Adam remembers as Kris. His Kris had been full of joy and hope. Sometimes, Adam had looked at him and sworn that he was glowing with some sort of inner light. It’s still there - he glimpses it occasionally in Kris’ smile - but it’s more subdued.

Before, Kris had been like the sun, shining and brilliant, almost blinding. Now, he reminds Adam of the stars, bright and distant, their light only visible every now and then. Beautiful still, but in a different way.

He wonders what changed him, what had diminished the radiance that had helped Adam through many sleepless nights, when he’d questioned the existence of goodness and kindness in the world, and only the memory of Kris had made him believe that it did.

(The truth is, he doesn’t have to wonder. Adam knows that it’s his fault, and he hates himself for it.)

They’ve fallen into a strange pattern, one that leaves Adam on edge and constantly off-kilter. They’re friends, of a sort, but that tension, that undeniable magnetism between them, hovers under the surface. There are countless moments where they’re both on the verge of something, something undeniable and irreversible; but one of them always steps away, trying to keep the boundaries between them from blurring any further.

There are silences filled with all the secrets Adam harbors, all the lies he’s told, all the things that he hasn’t said to Kris.

It’s suffocating him.

He shakes his head, trying to keep himself from continuing that train of thought. This isn’t the time for Adam to agonize over his many, many mistakes. He has to be strong, or at least appear to be.

The entire Allen household has fallen into chaos.

He hasn’t had a chance to hear the entire story, but he knows it has something to do with a debt.

Lord Neil has been locked inside his study with their solicitor since Adam had come to call an hour or two ago, and Lady Kimberly - “but, please, call me Kim” - had told him that he’s been in there since this morning. She’s wringing her hands, mouth in a deep frown. She and Sara, Allison’s mother, sit close together, whispering to each other, what about Adam can only imagine.

Allison has been out all day; Tommy has begun his courtship. The notion still hasn’t settled in Adam’s head. They were planning on taking a stroll through the park, Kris chaperoning them, with Brad tagging along because he can. Adam would love to be where they are, but when a messenger had knocked on his door with a letter bearing the Allen crest, he’d bowed out, telling them to go on without him.

Whatever is going on, it hasn’t been made known - yet.

What baffles Adam even further is how Daniel, Kris’ brother, has been acting. He keeps to his room mostly, but the few times he ventures out, he goes to speak to his mother and is met with stony silence. Kim is not a cold, distant mother, not by any means, but the way she’s acting towards Daniel is just that. Her silences radiate disapproval and disappointment. Adam winces at how obviously it’s wounding Daniel.

What could have possibly happened?

He hears a door creak, and moments later, the Allens’ solicitor walks down the stairs and out the door, not even noticing Adam hovering in the foyer. It’s all very mysterious; his curious nature is coming out to play, intrigued by all the secrecy.

“Lord Lambert?”

He looks towards the voice; Kris’ father is standing at the top of the stairs. “Yes?”

“Lord Neil Allen,” he says, climbing down the stairs to take Adam’s hand in a firm handshake. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I apologize for the delay.”

“Not a problem. Please, call me Adam. Formality seems pointless when we are to be family.”

His words make Neil smile, the lines on his face smoothing out. “Right you are. Well, Adam, I must ask the same of you then. I have to say, that bit of news is the best I’ve heard in a long while.”

“What exactly is the matter, Neil? Your message said that it was urgent.”

He nods somberly. “It’s a very grave matter indeed.” Neil’s eyes look past him to the parlor entrance. “But I’d rather not discuss it here.” He lowers his voice, motioning for Adam to follow him up the stairs. “There are certain things about this business that I’ve kept from Kim.”

Neil leads him to a study, spacious and elegant, gesturing for him to take a seat in a rather comfortable looking sofa. He closes the door, and sighs, clearly distraught. He takes a seat next to Adam, opening a bottle of brandy and pouring it into a glass; the bottle looks half-empty.

“This isn’t going to be good, is it, Neil?”

He laughs like Kris. “Not at all, my boy. It’s a rather messy affair. That my own son could be so foolish,” he says, shaking his head.

“Is this why Daniel is sulking around the house?”

Neil stares at him. “You’re very observant; I like that. Yes, he has something to do with this. I love my family, but they aren’t without their faults. One of Daniel’s is arrogance. That boy has all the confidence and Kristopher all the sense, it seems.”

“Kris is definitely sensible, but don’t mistake his serene nature for a lack of confidence,” Adam says, unable to keep himself from defending him.

Neil doesn’t seem to take offense. In fact, he seems pleased by his interruption. “Forgive me. Kristopher is many things, but arrogant is not one of them; that quality is Daniel’s alone. He seems to think he’s invincible. He never yields to an opponent, always so sure that he’ll come out the victor.”

Adam doesn’t like where this sounds like it’s going. “I’m sorry to interrupt yet again, but while Kim and Sara were talking I couldn’t help overhearing a few things. This all seems to have to do with a debt. Am I correct in assuming that said debt is Daniel’s?”

“Yes,” Neil says, sighing. He reaches for his glass, swallowing it down in one quick gulp. “Daniel was playing a card game, one of those affairs where it’s mostly about who can raise the stakes the highest. He was winning. And then by the game’s end, he wasn’t. He now owes a rather large sum of money to Lord Gokey. Do you know him?”

Adam grimaces. “I’ve only heard of him, perhaps met him in passing a few times, but Kris has spoken of him before. Isn’t he vying for Allison’s hand?”

“But as you know, Allison has become quite taken with that cousin of yours, Thomas.”

He bites his lip to keep from smiling; Tommy will hate it if they call him Thomas, but be too afraid to correct them.

“And he is quite taken with her as well. He’s smitten, not that he’ll admit it.”

“Which is wonderful,” Neil says with a slight smile. “Sara wants nothing more than for Allison to be happy. She knows that Allison wants to marry for love, and it seems that she’s gotten her wish. It’s rare to find love; wouldn’t you agree, Adam?”

Why does he feel as if he’s undergoing some sort of intense investigation?

“Yes. But those who do are incredibly lucky to have done so.”

He nods, and Adam is relieved to see that he’s pleased with the answer. “But that’s not what we’re here to discuss. That is something we’ll save for another day. As I was saying, Gokey had expressed interest in Allison, but when she made it perfectly clear that she’d chosen another, we sent our regards to him and apologized. He seemed disappointed but understanding, and said he wished her the best.” Neil says it all casually, but the rueful smile that accompanies it tells a different story.

“You think he trapped Daniel into this debt.”

“You’re quick on the uptake; always a good quality to possess,” he says thoughtfully, mind seeming to drift off briefly before returning to the task at hand. “That is my theory, yes. After I spoke to Daniel and got the entire tale out of him, he said something very interesting. Gokey is willing to accept another form of payment, one that doesn’t involve depleting our funds.”

Adam ponders it for a moment before staring at Neil with growing horror. “He couldn’t possibly-”

“If we gave him Allison’s hand in marriage, he would erase all debts. After all, we would be family,” he says bitterly.

“I- I’m sorry, Neil. Surely the debt can be paid?”

Neil shakes his head, looking somber. “Not without leaving us destitute. I know Allison, and if that girl got wind of this, she’d offer herself to Gokey with no regrets; we value family highly.”

“I have seen that,” Adam says, lips quirking up at the corners when he recalls the warmth present in Kris’ interactions with Allison and Kim.

“I know you are very wealthy, my Lord.”

Adam goggles at him.

“It’s not exactly a secret, Adam. I know you don’t like to call attention to it, but I’m bringing it up because I’d rather sacrifice my pride than risk my family.”

“If you’re asking for money, I will gladly give it. If you aren’t asking, I will insist upon it; I won’t see Allison sacrifice herself to keep you all from bankruptcy.”

It’s just the sort of thing they would do too. All willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their family.

Neil smiles at him, genuinely and without a trace of the worry that had been there only moments before. “You’re a good man, Adam. I thank you for your help. My son is lucky to have your heart.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Neil, I-” He stops cold, unsure if he heard that correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Now don’t play coy, Adam. I’m well aware of what you and Kristopher are to each other. Perhaps this is too soon, but you both have our blessing. We couldn’t ask for a better man for our son.”

Adam knows he should correct his assumptions - he and Kris don’t spend that much time together, do they? - but the way Neil is looking at him, with approval and no small amount of fatherly affection, makes it hard to.

“You flatter me, Neil. I’m not worthy of Kris.” This, at least, is true. “He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known.” Also true.

“No need to sing his praises to me; I can see that you love him. Whatever brought you to him, I’m thankful for it. He’s been so closed off, ever since the kidnapping. Kim and I were afraid he’d never let himself fall in love, or let himself be loved. You’ve changed him.”

Adam is the worst sort of person. He’s scum. He is the lowest, vilest creature on the earth.

He forces himself to stand despite the growing queasiness in his stomach. “I’m sorry, Neil, but I must take my leave.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You’ve done all you can do for us. I can’t thank you enough for it.”

Neil offers to show him out, but he declines, unsure how much longer he can keep the pleasant smile plastered onto his face before it cracks. He makes brief but sincere goodbyes to Kim and Sara before leaving the Allen home, thoughts racing frantically.

What had he just done?

~*~

Kris is exhausted.

He doesn’t know how Allison and Brad are still so energetic. He supposes that it’s just how they are. Tommy looks unaffected, but Kris sees him grimacing when Allison isn’t looking. At least he’s not the only one who’s tired.

They arrive home, but it’s oddly silent. Allison flounces up the stairs, calling for her mother - in an unladylike fashion, naturally - and Tommy heads into the parlor and collapses onto the sofa, sighing dramatically.

“Thank God. I was starting to worry that it’d never end.”

Brad follows, plopping down next to him. “Weakling. How are you going to survive living the rest of your life with the girl if you can’t even last one shopping excursion?”

“I can withstand it perfectly fine, Bradley. As long as she only takes me shopping once a year,” he quips, smiling slightly. “She’s worth a few hours of torture.”

“You are honestly infatuated with her. Tommy’s all grown-up,” Brad says, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

Kris chuckles quietly as they bicker back and forth, Brad ducking a swat to the head from Tommy. He - and his many colorful acquaintances - will be a welcome addition to the family.

“I have to say, as far as suitors go, Allison could have done much worse,” he says, grinning crookedly.

Tommy nods at him. “Thank you, Kris. Now, speaking of suitors, how are things going with Adam?”

What?

“What?”

There’s more he’d like to say, such as, ‘what do you mean how are things going?’ or, ‘what things?’ or ‘what does Adam have to do with my suitors?’ but he isn’t sure he could manage to speak more than one word right now.

Tommy rolls his eyes at him, shaking his head. “Don’t be daft, Kris. We all know what’s going on between you and Adam. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes.”

Kris feels his eyes widen. Surely they can’t be implying what he thinks they are. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I told you he didn’t even notice what was going on!” Brad crows. “You’re precious, Kristopher, but so oblivious to even the most obvious of things. Adam’s been courting you the past month.”

He probably looks like a moron with his mouth gaping open the way it is. There’s no way that Brad’s right - Adam is his friend, and has absolutely no interest in being his husband. In bedding him perhaps, but not in something as binding and life-changing as marriage.

“You’re both mistaken. Adam and I are friends - nothing more.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “Tell me, Kris, how often are you and Adam together?”

“Almost everyday,” he answers, wondering where this is going.

“And what do you do?”

“I don’t know.” Kris shrugs. “We talk.”

“Kris, the last time I saw you ‘talking’ in private, it involved you laying together, with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you,” Tommy interjects with a smug smirk on his face.

Brad elbows him. “Is that all you do?”

“We go out occasionally.”

“Where?”

“He’s taken me to a few parties, but I think that’s mostly because he enjoys taking me shopping to buy new, extravagant outfits that I’ll never wear ever again.” Tommy and Brad share a look. “It’s not like that! He’s only being a friend to me. Friends do those sorts of things, don’t they?”

“Far be it from me to shatter your carefully-constructed denial,” Brad says breezily. “But if you want to know for sure, Adam’s probably at home. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company of a friend - since that’s all you are to him.”

Kris doesn’t like the way they’re looking at him. “I don’t know what the two of you have heard that makes you think the way you do, but there is nothing going on between Adam and I. He is not courting me, he has no interest in courting me, and he certainly has no desire to marry me.” He stomps over to the door and pulls it open, gesturing for them to go. “I think you both should leave.”

Brad looks devastated. “Oh, Kris, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Please leave,” Kris says in a monotone, eyes looking past them.

Tommy gets up grudgingly, ushering Brad out before him. He tells Brad to go wait for him at the corner, shoving him when he starts to argue. “It’ll be fine. He’ll be back to sitting in your lap and giggling over one of your outlandish stories come morning. Just go.”

It makes him leave, but not without one last pitiful glance at Kris, who is pointedly not looking at either of them.

“You know we mean well, don’t you?”

“You _all_ mean well, you meddling busybodies,” he mutters darkly.

“Kris, just let me ask you something and then I’ll continue on my merry way. Why do you think we all so readily believe that Adam is courting you?”

He shrugs, unable to think of anything that would lead them to come to that peculiar conclusion.

“Just think about it, Kris. Think about how he looks at you, and how he makes you feel.” He pauses for a long moment; Kris feels nervous under his intense gaze. “Tell Allison that I look forward to escorting her tomorrow night, and to seeing the gown she so vigilantly kept from me today.”

With that, he’s out the door, leaving a stunned Kris in his wake.

~*~

Adam is going to save himself some trouble and kill Brad and Tommy at the same time.

The little buggers either drank all his liquor or have hidden it. Either way, both offenses are punishable by death.

He is scum. He is lower than scum. He’s as disreputable and dishonorable as the _ton_ paints him out to be.

He can excuse his initial reaction as shock, but to not correct Neil when he kept talking about how obviously Adam loved Kris? That was stupid. That was beyond stupid. That was the most idiotic thing he has ever done, and he’s done a lot of stupid things in his life.

So now, Adam has the blessings of a man who thinks he’s planning to marry his son, while in fact, aforementioned son barely tolerates his presence.

Brad and Tommy better have only hidden his scotch. If he’s not foxed when he kills them, then he’ll have a clear head with which to plan out their slow, excruciating deaths. Of course, if he’s too deep in his cups, then he may get sloppy, which while increasing their chances of survival, also means he could start hacking off their limbs willy-nilly. Perhaps he should use a gun.

He’s been sprawled on the sofa in his library for what feels like hours, trying to sleep so that his mind can rest for a moment and stop berating him for his poor judgment, but it has been a futile effort.

Tommy and Brad had returned home some time ago, but he’d ignored both of them, and eventually, they’d given up on trying to coax him out. When a knock comes on the door, he turns over, hoping that whichever one of them it is this time will give up quickly. The knocking persists for several minutes, and finally, he stands, unlocking the door, ready to lay into whoever it is.

He stops dead.

“Adam,” Kris says.

Maybe he doesn’t need the scotch; he’s already gone mad.

He looks timid, glancing up at him through his lashes and biting his lip nervously, a light flush on his cheeks. He looks as if he’s ready to bolt at any moment, skittish, like a doe in the woods. Adam smirks at how appropriate the comparison is as he tries to get those big brown eyes to meet his gaze.

“Kris,” he replies, voice carefully nonchalant. What on earth is he doing here? He glances at the clock on the mantle. And at this hour no less. “Not that this isn’t a pleasant surprise, but why are you here? Is everything alright?”

Please don’t let him be here because he wants to tell Adam how much he hates him.

“It’s nothing,” he says to the floor.

Adam rolls his eyes, smiling fondly, and grabs his chin, tilting it up so that Kris is looking at him. “It’s not nothing if you’re here in the dead of night.”

“It isn’t the dead of night,” Kris murmurs, eyes shutting briefly. “Do you think we could talk about it while I’m not half in the hallway?”

He catches the glint of blond hair in his peripheral and nods, pulling Kris into the room. Better that they talk where prying ears can’t hear.

Adam closes the door and locks it, turning around to see Kris standing awkward and tense in the middle of the room. He grabs his hand and lays back down on the sofa, stretching out. He’s not sure if it’ll work, but the two of them may be able to fit. Adam tugs on Kris’ hand insistently, pouting when he doesn’t join him, instead tugging him until he’s sitting back up.

“I’d rather not.”

He starts to worry. Kris is the tactile sort, taking joy in things like curling up close with someone, limbs tangled and intertwined so closely that it’s hard to tell which are yours and which aren’t. He delights in touch, in contact.

That he’s refusing it now is troubling.

“If that’s what you want,” Adam says easily, hiding his unease. He pats the empty space next to him, inviting Kris to sit. He does, but far enough that Adam can’t touch him easily.

Kris is visibly upset, hands fidgeting constantly. His bottom lip looks raw, from too much biting and worrying no doubt. His tongue darts out to moisten it before he starts biting down on it again, so hard that Adam feels his own mouth ache in sympathy.

Without thought, his hand comes up to touch Kris’ mouth. His eyes flit to Adam’s, startled. He jumps slightly at the contact, but relaxes into it soon enough, easing up on his lip. Adam runs a thumb across the red, swollen flesh, entranced.

He’s always had a weakness for Kris’ mouth.

He feels Kris trembling beneath his hand. He forces himself to move his gaze away from his lips and up to his eyes. Confusion, fear, longing. Adam lets his hand fall away.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gently, watching Kris intently for his reaction.

He shakes his head over and over, mumbling to himself. Adam waits it out - Kris babbles when he’s nervous.

“Are you courting me?”

And when he’s done sorting it out in his head, he blurts it out bluntly.

“What?”

Kris springs up from the sofa, pacing frantically. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, ever since, and they were, and I just, and it-”

“Kris!” Adam stands up, catching him by the shoulders and keeping him still. “I don’t know what you’re saying. Finish a sentence. _Please_.” He sinks back onto the couch, making sure to keep an arm around Kris’ shoulders, feeling the tension seep out of him at Adam’s comforting touch.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know how you get when you’re upset,” he says absent-mindedly, more focused on the tight coil of Kris’ muscles beneath his hand. “Why did you ask if I was courting you?”

Kris blushes. “Brad and Tommy asked me how our courtship was going.”

“Did they?” he asks, voice deadly soft and dangerous.

Forget the scotch; the two bastards deserved his full - completely sober - wrath when they died.

Kris reaches for his hand, clutching it tight. “Don’t be mad at them. If I didn’t know any better, I may have thought the same thing.”

“Why do you say that? We’re just mates, Kris.”

“We know that. But everyone else sees something different,” he whispers into Adam’s shoulder, cuddling in closer.

“What do they see?” he asks, even though he’s afraid of what the answer might be.

“They see the two of us, both eligible members of the _ton_ , spending time together, in favor of others’ company. They see that I give you too many liberties with my person, and you return the favor. They don’t believe in showing such closeness in public, except in married couples, and even then, it’s rare to see. But we’re always touching, Adam. We’re always around each other.”

“Do you want us to spend less time together?”

Kris shakes his head vehemently. “No, it’s not that. I don’t care what the _ton_ believes, but if our friends and family are starting to see something that isn’t there, well…” He trails off.

“Well?” Adam prods. Kris is _not_ allowed to let that sentence go unfinished.

“Do you think that maybe they’re right?” he asks softly, peering at him from underneath thick lashes, bashful and uncertain and so beautiful it makes Adam’s heart hurt.

“Your father thinks we’re in love.”

Kris blinks at him, speechless. Adam scrambles for words, but he can find none that sound right. This isn’t how he’d planned to tell him about that meeting.

“But you’ve never even met my father,” he starts, baffled.

“I did today. I received a message from him that said he needed to speak to me immediately about something urgent. He said that we had his blessing.”

“His blessing? But we aren’t planning to do anything that would require his blessing. You and I are just friends - nothing more.”

Adam feels gutted. “Right. Nothing more,” he says, moving his arm off of Kris’ shoulders. He tries to pull his hand away, but Kris holds fast, refusing to let him go. “Kris-”

“No. Let me finish. Right now, you and I are just mates. But, if everyone else is seeing something more, then maybe they’re right. Maybe we’re just fooling ourselves by pretending that that’s all there is between us.”

He looks so earnest. Adam wants nothing more than to fall into this. After all this time, he can have Kris. He can have his happily ever after.

Except he can’t, not truly - not without telling him everything. If he doesn’t tell him, then it will always haunt him, specters of the past shadowing them both.

But Adam isn’t sure he’s brave enough to tell the truth and risk losing Kris yet again. He’s strong, but he’s not that strong.

“Kris-”

“You’re not allowed to talk me out of this. My mind is made up, Adam. If you’re refusing me because you don’t want me, I’ll understand. But if you’re backing out because you’re afraid, then don’t bother. You’re better than that, Adam.”

Damn him for being so sincere and sure of himself.

He closes his eyes, unable to meet Kris’ direct gaze. “Are you sure?”

Hands reach for him, pulling him close, “yes, absolutely yes,” whispered against his lips, soft but certain.

Adam lets himself fall.

~*~

Kris is a married man now.

He has a husband.

He’s married and he’s someone’s husband.

Adam squeezes his hand, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Kris looks at him, unable to contain the bright smile that forms on his lips. “Never better, husband,” he says teasingly.

Adam lights up, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his temple.

He’s married.

The past three weeks have gone by in a blur.

It feels like none of this is actually happening. He hasn’t had much time to really think about anything lately. After he and Adam had gotten engaged, they’d told their families - he can still hear Allison’s triumphant shouts ringing in his ears - and the wedding preparations had begun right away.

He doesn’t know why Adam had been in such a rush to tie the knot, but he hadn’t complained. Adam had been the perfect fiancé, attentive and caring and loving. Come to think of, it hadn’t been that different from how he’d been treating Kris before.

It amazes him a bit how dense they’d both been.

All that doesn’t matter now, because they’re married. _Married_. He’s spending the rest of his life with Adam.

Kris laughs to himself quietly, thinking that Allison may have her summers with lemon sherbet and tons of adoring nieces and nephews who call her Aunt Allison after all. Adam nips at his jaw line, bringing Kris’ attention back to him.

“Stop getting lost in that head of yours. This is our honeymoon, Kris; I want to have your attention at all times.”

“But you do,” he says sweetly, capturing Adam’s lips in a kiss.

He could get used to this.

He leans his head on Adam’s shoulder, starting to doze off. He struggles to stay awake, but Adam hushes him, telling him to rest; they’re going to have a long night, he tells Kris in a low voice filled with promise. When he wakes, they’re at one of Adam’s country estates.

The grounds are lovely, simple but elegant, and obviously well-maintained. The mansion - because that’s exactly what it is - is large, but not cavernous. It’s spacious but not overwhelmingly so. Not that either of them will spend much time outside of the bedroom, Adam whispers teasingly into his ear as the housekeeper shows them around the estate; his face is flushed for the rest of the tour.

The housekeeper - a matronly blond woman named Evelyn - leaves them at the doors to the master suite, an impish grin on her face as she tells them to enjoy their stay.

Kris stares at the doors, trying to remember how to move. Luckily, Adam seems to know how to open doors. He hopes he isn’t this useless for the rest of their honeymoon.

The next thing he knows, he’s being lifted off the ground, swept up into Adam’s arms, and carried into the room. Adam kicks the door shut behind them, gently laying Kris down on the bed.

Sometimes, Adam looks at him like he thinks Kris will break, or that he’ll vanish into thin air if he takes his eyes off of him for even a moment. He doesn’t know why he looks at Kris like that, but he knows that Adam doesn’t have to worry about it.

He won’t break, and he won’t leave, not now, not ever.

Neither of them have said it, but he knows; he loves Adam, undoubtedly and inexplicably. He’s not sure if Adam loves him back, but he knows that he wants him. Adam wants him enough to bind them together for the rest of their lives, and that’s more than enough for Kris.

He tells Adam that he’s never done this before, in between steamy kisses that steal his breath away, making him gasp for air even as he presses closer for more. Adam tells him that it’s okay, that he wanted to be Kris’ first, his only. Hot, heavy hands disrobe him, pulling insistently at his clothes, ruining the garments beyond repair. Kris laughs breathlessly, sure that if Adam weren’t so preoccupied with undressing him, he’d be upset at their loss.

Adam doesn’t seem to be thinking about anything except being able to touch Kris, anywhere and everywhere, preferably skin to skin. He claws at Adam’s back, hands scrabbling uselessly at the fabric, as if he can make it disappear through sheer force of will.

Kris wants him naked - _now_.

He tugs at Adam’s vest, whining pitifully. Adam laughs against his mouth, reaching down to undo the many tiny buttons; he can feel his hands shaking. Kris gets impatient after a while - Adam’s normally nimble fingers are faltering. He takes hold of one of those trembling hands and brings it to his lips, kissing them until they still.

When they do, he lets go, attempting to undo the buttons himself; he has even more trouble than Adam getting them open. He struggles with them for a while before giving up and ripping the vest apart, buttons flying off and landing on the bed, pinging on the floor. Kris sees a smile bloom on Adam’s face before he surges forward to kiss him, telling him without words to take care of his breeches on his own, or they’ll be ruined as well.

Adam naked, finally, warm skin pressed against his own, over him and all around him.

It’s silent except for Adam’s quiet pants and Kris’ nonstop litany of Adam’s name intermixed with pleas for more. He feels like he’s floating, grounded only by Adam’s touch, hands possessive and gentle on his waist, holding him in place, mouth warm and wet on his neck, his chest, going lower and lower until he can’t even think straight.

His hands slip down to grip Adam’s hair, pulling tightly when he takes Kris into his mouth. His hips jerk instinctively and Adam’s hands land on his hips, pinning him down.

He’s at Adam’s mercy, his pleasure being given at Adam’s leisure. Kris bites down on his bottom lip, trying to stifle the cries that want to escape. Adam releases him, sliding up to capture his mouth in a kiss; he tastes like Kris. He’s gasping for air when they part, Adam looking as breathless as he feels.

“Don’t hold back,” he says softly, leaning down to kiss Kris’ shoulder. “Don’t fight it. Just let go.”

Kris obeys.

He can feel Adam, hot and hard against his thigh. His hand snakes down between their bodies, grabbing hold of Adam’s cock, heavy and warm in his grip. He groans in response, head dropping onto Kris’ shoulder, planting frantic little kisses on his skin. He explores, learning Adam’s body through touch, wondering what it’ll be like when he’s finally inside Kris, as close as they can possibly be. His hand brushes across a peaked nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers curiously, pleased when Adam shudders above him. He wants to touch, to taste, to learn.

“Can I?” Kris starts, unsure.

“Anything,” Adam says without hesitation.

He rolls them over, wriggling on top of Adam until he’s settled, a warm curl of satisfaction settling in his belly at the stunned expression on Adam’s face. He’s not the only one who wants to touch, to take.

Adam is spread out under him, so gorgeous. Kris can’t keep his hands from roaming all over the pale, freckled skin before him. He traces nonsense words onto his skin, fingers light and teasing, making Adam writhe beneath him.

He can’t stop touching him, anywhere, everywhere, exploring the bare flesh before him, memorizing all the places that make Adam groan and whimper in pleasure. Kris’ eyes linger at his cock, flush against his stomach, so thick that he wonders how it will all fit inside him.

Adam loses his patience eventually, aggravated from the touches that tease but don’t satisfy, and grabs Kris’ wrists with one hand, holding it above their heads and taking his mouth in a rough kiss that makes his lips feel used, swollen and tender.

“Slut,” he growls out against Kris’ lips, “teasing me so. And on our wedding night at that.”

It makes him shiver, the possession and power in his voice; he belongs to Adam.

“Adam, please,” he whines, desperate. He needs something more, something he can’t even name, to satisfy the need burning deep inside him.

“Shh, dear one. I know. Soon, darling; soon,” he whispers, easing Kris off of him and back onto the satin sheets.

He’s heard stories of wedding nights, pleasurable and torturous. Pain stronger than you can imagine, pleasure so heady it makes your limbs weak and your head spin. With Adam, he’s sure that it will be nothing but bliss.

“Please,” he murmurs over and over, all other words falling away as the hunger consumes him, blood thrumming through his veins, heart racing. He needs-

Adam’s hands, spreading his thighs apart, settling between his legs, fingers slick with oil, touching him intimately where no one else has before. Kris jerks away from the touch at first, but Adam soothes him, hands stroking his thigh, calming him.

“Relax, love. Don’t fight it. Just breathe. Breathe for me, Kris. Let me in.”

He breathes deep, eyes falling shut, trying to ease the tension suddenly running through him. Nerves have made him anxious, keeping him and Adam from what they both want. What they both need.

Kris hears Adam moan softly when a finger finally slips inside him. He clenches around it, curious. It makes Adam lay his head on Kris’ thigh, muttering praises and endearments into his skin.

It’s a peculiar sensation, like nothing he’s ever felt before. It’s pleasant, but nothing earth-shattering. Then there are two inside him, the fullness sharper, making him groan and arch into Adam’s touch.

“So good, so beautiful,” he says ardently, planting frenzied kisses along Kris’ neck and making his way to his lips, claiming them in a kiss so frantic that Kris’ mouth feels bruised afterwards.

Adam takes his time. By the end of it all, Kris feels wrung out, breathless and aching with arousal. He’s desperate, mindless, arms and legs reaching out for Adam, limbs wrapping around him and pulling him close.

“Please, Adam, please; take me.” If he still had his wits about him he would be ashamed at how he is behaving, as wanton as any slattern in a brothel. Propriety be damned; he needs Adam.

His head falls onto Kris’ shoulder, a pained groan escaping him. “You undo me so easily, sweetheart. I think you’re ready for me. Would you like that, Kris? Do you want me inside you?”

He could kill Adam. “Stop playing games and get on with it, Lambert,” he grits out, his hips bucking up of their own volition, rubbing their erections together, the friction making Adam moan helplessly.

“Do you even know what to do, dearest?” he says, breathless, trying for smug and falling far off the mark.

“No. But I’ll figure it out soon enough if you aren’t going to be of any use,” Kris mutters.

Adam soothes him with a soft kiss, no less passionate for all its gentleness. “No need for that. Turn over, love. It’ll be easier that way.” He waits for Kris to settle onto his stomach, hands running down his sides, making him shiver. “You’re beautiful, Kris,” he says reverently. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Kris pillows his head on his arms, feeling Adam’s hands settle onto his hips. He can feel him nudging at Kris’ opening, slick with oil, the head catching on the entrance before starting to slide in, finally.

It burns. It burns and it hurts, but it’s so good, the fullness like nothing he’s ever felt; he wants more. It ’s almost too much, Adam deep inside him, solid and warm against his back.

“Are you alright?” He sounds strained. Kris turns back to look at him, but he can’t make out his face, only his silhouette; it feels wrong.

“I’m fine, Adam. Just. I need - I need to see you.” He wriggles in his arms, trembling when it makes Adam move within him. He tightens his grip on Kris’ body, trying to still him.

“No, Kris, don’t.” He recoils from Adam’s touch, stung. “Oh, no, no, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the back of Kris’ neck tenderly. “It’s easier on you this way - trust me.” Adam pulls out torturously slow, leaving him empty; his knees feel weak. “But after this, when you’ve learnt how to take me, when you’ve become accustomed to it, we’ll try it any way you like.” Pushing back in, filling him, the pleasure-pain almost too much to bear. “And when you’ve decided on which you like best, we’ll try them all over again just to make sure. Does this proposition please you?”

Kris thinks he nods numbly, babbling something that sounds like _yespleaseanythingyespleasepleaseplease_ , but it’s so hard to think with Adam inside him, making him thrash and cry out, little breathy moans and gasps that are supposed to be words but never quite make it.

The sensations are too overwhelming. Adam in him and around him, rocking into him with slow, deep thrusts that brush against something that makes Kris quiver uncontrollably and let out a loud whimper. He can’t stop his hips from pushing back against Adam, begging for more wordlessly, all speech lost to him.

He hears Adam groan, a hand snaking around to Kris’ front and taking hold of his aching cock. Adam’s fingers stroke his length teasingly, making him mindless with anticipation.

“Patience, darling,” he tells Kris when he groans, turning back to glare at him with half-lidded eyes. Adam simply smiles at the weak glower, moving forward to kiss him until his displeasure melts away. He stops teasing then, gripping Kris’ cock firmly, matching the strokes of his hand to the pace of his hips, growing faster and faster still, Adam’s control starting to fray.

Kris shudders through an intense climax, startling even though it’s a foregone conclusion. It’s all the more powerful with Adam inside him, the pleasure escalating with each helpless shiver that makes him clench around the thick length inside him.

Adam pets him soothingly as he trembles his way through the aftershocks, keeping still and ignoring his own need for the moment. Kris lets himself melt into the mattress, limbs weak and unable to support him any longer. He feels Adam pull out and his hand reaches back to grab him, trying to stop him.

“Adam,” he says shakily, trying to form a sentence and giving up halfway through the thought process; it takes more energy and intelligence than he currently possesses. Kris hopes he won’t be this witless every time after they make love. With a groan, he rolls over onto his back, staring up at Adam.

He’s flushed from exertion, blue eyes so dilated they look black. His mouth is red and wet, lips parted slightly from the quiet breaths he’s taking. Kris reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, caressing it gently before reaching back to run his fingers through Adam’s hair. He’s gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, and he’s Kris’ - forever.

“Adam,” he says again, helpless. He uses his grip on the back of Adam’s head to bring him closer, capturing his lips in a kiss, smiling slightly into it when Adam takes over. His legs spread instinctively, cradling Adam’s body between them. Kris can feel his cock, hard against his thigh. “You’re still hard,” he says without thought, blushing instantly at his boldness.

“That I am, sweetheart. Were you planning on helping me with that?” Adam says with a devilish grin, glittering eyes intent on Kris’ mouth.

He bites his lip nervously, tongue darting out to lick away the sting, and watches as Adam’s eyes track the movement. He knows what Adam wants, but Kris would rather save that for another time. One of his legs wraps around Adam’s waist, pulling him closer, until their foreheads are pressed together, Adam spread out on top of him, his weight warm and comforting. “Take me,” he whispers, hiding his burning face in Adam’s neck.

He shivers and groans, the vibrations rumbling through Kris’ body. “I’m a fool for you, Kris. A few simple words and I would fall at your feet, give you anything you asked for; anything.”

His breath catches. “Adam, please. _Please_ ,” he says desperately, lost for words.

Adam kisses him as he slips inside him once more, slow and steady, taking his pleasure, Kris offering himself freely. He bites down hard on his lower lip when Adam reaches his completion, holding in the words that want to escape at the sight of him, head thrown back, exposing a throat that Kris wants so badly to mark with lips, tongue and teeth, to tell everyone that Adam is his, his, his.

Kris feels Adam leave the bed, shivering at the loss of his warmth. He returns moments later with a warm washcloth, cleaning Kris up, looking down at him with a fond smile.

He starts to feel drowsy, exhaustion seeping into his limbs and making his eyes flutter, trying to keep them open when they want to close.

“It’s alright, love. Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake.” Adam kisses his forehead and settles back onto the bed, curling up next to Kris and pulling him into his arms.

He falls asleep to the sound of Adam’s heartbeat.

~*~

He’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry.

The weeks that he and Kris have spent at the estate have been perfect. Adam can’t recall the last time he was this happy.

It still seems unreal.

This is everything he’s ever wanted. _Kris_ is all he’s ever wanted. He’d spent so long trying to forget, to leave behind the boy he’d loved briefly but intensely, but one chance meeting and all that effort has proven to be for naught.

He loves Kris. And now, he has him.

But does he deserve to?

Adam knows he doesn’t. No good can come of this. He’s going to end up breaking Kris’ heart - and his own.

Kris makes a small unhappy sound in his sleep, as if he can sense the dark thoughts lurking in Adam’s head, and he soothes him quickly, pulling him even closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He stills, calming instantly at Adam’s touch.

His heart aches at the sight of him, peacefully asleep once more, so sure that Adam will keep him safe. He can’t let this go, not yet. Not if he can help it.

They’re in the carriage, on the road back to London. They won’t have a moment to themselves once they return. Allison and Tommy’s nuptials are underway, which means they will all be swept into wedding plans. He has officially asked for her hand, which Allison had gleefully accepted with a snort and an “it’s about time you asked me”. Kim and Sara are practically drooling at the thought of planning a wedding since he and Kris had deprived them of a proper one.

It’d been a lovely, but uncomplicated affair. The ceremony simple yet heartfelt, just the two of them with their family and friends, not a fancy to-do with the entire _ton_ watching them with bated breath as they pledged themselves to one another.

They’d been deprived the chance to plan a big wedding for Kris and himself, and they’ll be damned if Allison does the same.

Adam wonders how long it will take for the two of them to decide to hie off to Gretna Green and elope instead.

He chuckles quietly, wishing Kris were awake so that he could share his amusement. He’s spent most of the trip sleeping, resting his head on Adam’s shoulder, full lips slightly parted, beckoning Adam to steal a kiss or two, the perfect picture of serenity.

He has resisted the call for the most part, so he figures that he owes himself a reward. Adam tilts his face up, planting small, soft kisses against Kris’ pliant lips, smiling as they move under his own, their owner starting to wake. He yields to Adam so beautifully, opening to his questing tongue easily, welcoming his advances.

When they part, Kris is smiling blissfully, eyes hazy with pleasure. Adam can’t help the tender smile he gives in return. “Did you sleep well, dear one?”

He watches as Kris’ cheeks turn a becoming shade of pink. He nods, nuzzling his face into Adam’s neck. He so enjoys watching Kris’ reaction to his endearments. He seems torn between being completely and utterly charmed by them and being embarrassed that he’s completely and utterly charmed by them.

“You are a treasure, Kris,” he says fondly, pulling Kris onto his lap, ignoring the small squeak he makes.

He shakes his head, laughing self-deprecatingly. “I’m nothing special. But you, Adam,” he says softly, eyes alight with something he hesitates to call love, “you are something else entirely. Beyond us mere mortals,” he adds with a small smile, all for Adam.

“You’re wrong, darling. You are so much more than you realize,” he whispers, caressing a cheek and watching as his eyes flutter shut, instinctively moving in for a kiss.

Kris is going to break his heart.

~*~

“Adam!”

Kris isn’t sure whether he should be pleased that Allison is so fond of her new cousin or affronted that she cares more for his return than Kris’. That thought disappears when he is pulled into a hug, arms wrapping around his waist from behind.

“How was the honeymoon?” Tommy asks, putting his head on his shoulder and watching Allison talk at Adam.

He feels his face heat, the memory of many, many nights - and mornings and afternoons - of passion still fresh in his mind. “It was pleasant.”

Tommy laughs. “I’m sure it was,” he says teasingly, releasing his hold on Kris and walking over to their significant others, hoisting Allison away from Adam to give him a tight hug.

Kris can’t help smiling at the sight of them. His family.

“Kris!” He almost falls over at the sheer force of Allison’s embrace.

“Oh, so now you notice your old, stuffy cousin,” he says with good humor, kissing her on the cheek.

“Well, considering the catch you landed, I may have to revise my opinion of you as stuffy. But you are still old.” She sticks her tongue out at him before darting back into the townhouse.

He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips. The impending nuptials have done nothing to sober her, something he appreciates. Any other man would have wed Allison with the intent to cow her brash nature. Not so with Tommy. In fact, Kris is rather certain that that is a large part of why he adores Allison so.

“She’s a handful,” Adam remarks, putting an arm around Kris’ shoulders and kissing his temple absent-mindedly. He flushes at the look on Tommy’s face, teasing and a bit smug. He and Brad have done nothing to hide their satisfaction at being proven right, and Kris can only imagine how much worse it will be now that he and Adam are married.

“That she is. But it’s part of her charm, wouldn’t you agree?” Tommy says, looking at the open doorway that Allison has disappeared through, clearly besotted.

“I suppose,” Kris quips, sure that he isn’t hearing a word either of them are saying right now.

Adam seems to have noticed how preoccupied Tommy is as well, and is intent on enjoying himself. “Yes. Speaking of charm, Kris, we should really go inside. It’s been almost an hour since I had you last. Do you mind if we christen the foyer, Thomas?”

“Whatever you want,” he says absently.

Kris can’t help bursting into loud, raucous laughter, trusting Adam to keep him from tumbling down into the gutter or something embarrassing like that. Adam is laughing along with him, albeit in a more dignified manner than Kris.

Tommy seems to have realized what just occurred, a scowl on his face. “Oh, very mature the two of you are. As if you aren’t as bad. In fact, you’re much worse.”

“Ah, but we’re married, Thomas. We are allowed to be unquestionably smitten with each other. To see it in engaged couples is simply unnatural,” Adam says with a smirk.

“Call me Thomas one more time and Kris will be a widower,” he threatens.

Kris subtly places himself in front of Adam. “No need for that. I doubt Allison will appreciate you murdering her favorite in-law.”

“I’m her only in-law, dearest,” he says, a hand coming up to wrap around Kris’ waist, his front pressed to Kris’ back. He settles further into Adam’s embrace, turning his head and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Even if she had a thousand, you would still be the one she liked best.”

“Flatterer.” Adam turns him around, capturing his mouth in an intense kiss right there on the street, in full view of everyone. Kris doesn’t mind as much as he thinks he’s supposed to.

“See? You two are much worse than Allison or I. Smitten pair of fools you are.” With that, Tommy leaves them, generously taking their luggage inside with him.

Kris feels like his face is on fire. Adam is leaning his forehead against his own, blue eyes watching him with amusement, features distorted this close.

“He has a point, sweetheart. I’m a smitten fool.”

This time, Kris is the one who pulls him in for a kiss. Nothing, not even the scandalous gasps of hapless bystanders, makes him stop. He doesn’t pull away until they are both breathless and panting, lips swollen and bruised. They stand there for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of their harsh breathing filling the silence.

Eventually, Adam takes his hand and leads him into the house and up the stairs, opening the door to a room facing to the west, the sunset bright and brilliant on the horizon.

“This, darling, is our room.” He pauses, giving Kris a predatory smile. “And that, behind you, is our bed.” Adam walks them backwards, gently lowering them down onto the bed. “I know it isn’t as luxurious as our honeymoon bed, but I think after enough time spent in it, you will like it just as much.”

A few hours later, Kris is inclined to agree.

~*~

 _“Do you mean it when you say you love me?”_

 _His lover merely stared at him, unreadable. Kris bit his lip, wishing he could take back the rash words. He didn’t know what would become of them once he left. To ask him to promise something beyond what they had here was unfair to them both._

 _He closed his eyes, sure that his mercurial lover would rebuke him. Instead, he felt himself being wrapped in a warm embrace, a tender touch on his cheek._

 _“I know that the circumstances that brought us together are enough to make anyone question the other’s integrity,” he whispered into Kris’ ear, voice soft and lilting. “But I have never lied to you. From the very beginning, I have been forthright with you. I know that winning your trust and keeping it is going to be difficult. But you are worth the time it will take. Having your whole heart, and knowing that you do not doubt me or what I feel for you - that is worth_ everything.”

~*~

“Tommy is hating every minute of it,” Adam says gleefully, sitting across from Kris, clad only in his dressing gown. He’s been accompanying his cousin to his various fittings and the like for his wedding, and nothing has brought him greater joy than watching Tommy grimace and snipe his way through them. He knows it’s only a matter of time before he takes his bride-to-be and hies off to Gretna Green to elope; neither of them are fond of the extensive planning involved in a “proper wedding”.

Kris makes a noncommittal noise, looking more interested in what’s at the bottom of his teacup than in what Adam’s saying. His smile fades away, replaced by a scowl. Adam has no idea what’s going on with Kris, but he’s been acting very odd lately.

It’s started recently, perhaps only a fortnight. Before that, they’d been living in wedded bliss, which is just as wonderful as the phrase implies. Three months of nothing but joy, Kris accepting him into his life and his bed, maybe even his heart.

Adam had thought that they were happy together.

Then Kris had started acting cold. It’s almost as if they’ve regressed to where they were when they met, Kris keeping him out at every turn. He cannot stand it.

He doesn’t know what caused this sudden change in his husband, but he doesn’t like it.

Whenever he tries to initiate a conversation, Kris shuts him down, making an excuse to leave or changing the subject. Something is very wrong but he knows that he cannot make Kris talk to him before he’s ready; he’ll tell him in his own time.

Kris is stubborn, and if he refuses to tell Adam what’s bothering him, then there’s nothing he can do about it.

 _What if he knows?_

That thought leaves him cold, a helpless, frantic fear filling him, making it hard to breathe. He puts his cup down onto the table with a clatter. His anxiety is noticeable enough that Kris sees, and for a moment, he looks like himself again - his Kris, concerned and loving - walking over to press a cool hand to Adam’s forehead, lips pursed in worry.

“I’m fine, dearest,” he says, smiling wearily, watching Kris retreat back into himself as his hand leaves Adam’s face. He longs to grab hold of his hand and never let go, but he knows the gesture would be rebuffed.

“Alright. But if you feel unwell later, please rest instead of pushing yourself. You overestimate your limits.”

It sounds like what a concerned spouse would say, but it’s ruined by the impassive, impersonal delivery; Adam wants to cry.

Kris leaves then, taking the breakfast tray with him. At first, the breakfast nook in their room had seemed a brilliant idea, a way for them to spend more time together - in private. Now, it’s the setting for morning after morning of civil, restrained conversation, the two of them pointedly ignoring the mounting tension.

Adam feels like a prisoner awaiting his execution, unaware of when the axe will drop, but constantly seeing the shadow above his head.

He can’t go on like this.

Even if their shared past - unbeknownst to his darling husband - isn’t the reason for Kris’ indifference, he has to tell him.

He’d been wrong not to tell Kris sooner, but Adam had been greedy, wanting to savor what time he had with Kris before the axe fell and he lost him again, this time for good.

He knows that that’s a possibility. He also knows that it’s the most likely one. Kris forgiving him, staying with him, is too much to hope for.

It isn’t a task he’s looking forward to, but it is a necessary one. It’s not in Adam’s nature to be deceitful, and yet here he is, lying day-in and day-out to his husband, a man he has vowed to love and cherish for as long as they both lived.

He has to tell Kris everything.

Adam doesn’t know if he can handle the aftermath of Kris leaving him, of Kris hating him for the rest of his life, but the alternative isn’t any better. The guilt is already eating him alive. How much more so in a year or ten or twenty?

He doesn’t want to live with the constant fear that each day they have together will be the last, not because of death taking one of them away, but because Adam’s lies forced him out.

He’s not proud of what he did to Kris, of how he acted at the end, but he has to hold himself accountable for his mistakes. He has to own up to them and hope that Kris will find it in him to forgive him eventually.

It’s the best he can hope for.

~*~

Kris can’t bear to look at him.

Had he been taken in so easily yet again?

He hasn’t learned at all from the past. Once again, he has been played for a fool and he hadn’t even known until it was too late.

Well, if Adam thinks he can lie to him and get away with it, he’s wrong.

But when he comes home - to their happy home, he thinks bitterly - Adam is waiting for him, a welcoming smile on his lips. He takes Kris into his arms easily. He used to love how they fit together so effortlessly; now it makes him sick.

Has their entire marriage been a lie, then? Nothing more than some sort of payment for a favor? Has Adam meant any of what he’s said, of what he’s done, or has it all been an act?

Adam quickly notices how stiff Kris is in his arms. That, too, is something he used to adore, how he seems to know what Kris wants without him having to say a word.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

Kris forces himself to smile weakly. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

He steps out of Adam’s embrace and hurries up the stairs, not looking back. He doesn’t think he can bear seeing those eyes look at him with such gentleness and concern when they’re nothing more than a lie.

He tries to shut the door behind him, but it refuses to budge. Kris had been so focused on escaping that he’d missed Adam following behind him.

“Please leave,” he says, tired. He doesn’t want to talk about this.

“I think I’ll stay,” Adam says, immovable. He shuts the door quietly, darting out to grab Kris when he makes to leave. “No. You don’t get to run anymore, Kris. I tried to wait, but I can’t bear this silence between us.” He lifts a hand to Kris’ face, caressing his cheek. His eyes fall shut in response, unwilling to see the tender look on Adam’s face. “Talk to me, love. Tell me what’s wrong.”

This is precisely why Kris had avoided him.

He can’t stand his ground when faced with Adam. One look into those blue eyes and he is senseless, wanting nothing else but to lose himself in him; it’s far too easy for Kris to do so.

He pushes him away, able to think clearer when he isn’t drowning in Adam’s presence. “I know.”

Adam looks stricken, face going deathly pale. “Please, Kris, let me explain. Tell me I at least have that. Tell me I haven’t lost you. Tell me I still have a chance.” He’s babbling, cornering Kris against the wall, hands gripping his shoulders tight.

“You’re hurting me,” he whispers, at a loss.

It makes Adam’s mouth snap shut, lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m sorry.” He backs away and Kris berates himself for wanting to reach out and keep him close. Adam’s running a hand through his hair, looking disheveled and harried, not at all resembling the suave, refined man he usually appears to be. “I just can’t lose you, Kris. Not again,” he mutters, so softly that Kris almost doesn’t catch it.

Again? What on earth does he mean?

“Adam, my father told me what you did. For Daniel; for my family.”

And while part of him had been overjoyed that Adam would do that for them, would save Allison from a loveless marriage and his family from financial ruin, he cannot help wondering if that is why his parents have been so supportive of their union. After all, a man who paid off such a large debt could have anything he wanted; it seems that Kris is what Adam wanted.

His soft words make Adam stop pacing, head jerking to look at Kris. “He told you about me paying off Daniel’s debt?”

“He mentioned it offhand. He assumed that I already knew. When I made it clear that I didn’t, he said that you must have kept it from me because you didn’t want me to feel like a charity case; you were just helping the man you loved.”

Kris just barely manages to say all of that in a steady voice.

Adam looks relieved. “Oh, sweetheart.” He takes hold of Kris’ hand and pulls him close to embrace him. He hates himself for immediately settling into Adam’s hold, arms slipping up to wrap around his waist, head lying on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just thought that the less people who knew where the money came from, the better. I didn’t want it to seem like it was a hand-out, because it wasn’t, darling; it wasn’t. I just wanted to help. You’re all so dear to me. Especially you, Kris.”

His hand tips up Kris’ face, moving in for a soft, slow kiss that makes him feel light-headed. It’s been some time since he let Adam touch him so intimately.

He forces his hands to unwind from their hold on Adam, coming up to push him away. “Why did you marry me?”

He needs to know.

Adam stares at him, perplexed. “Because I wanted to, Kris. I want to grow old with you, for us to have children, to spend the rest of our lives together.”

He sounds so sincere, but Kris doesn’t think he can believe him.

“Why did you pay off Daniel’s debt? Why did my father even go to you for help?”

Adam takes one of Kris’ hands in his, bringing it up to brush a kiss against his knuckles. “Is this why you’ve been so distant? Did you think that your father and I arranged some sort of deal, with you as a bargaining chip? Never, love; you aren’t a tool to be used in negotiations.”

Kris allows himself to relax a little. He knows Adam has a good heart. Maybe he can trust in this, in them.

When Adam pulls him close once more, he goes freely, acknowledging to himself just how much he has missed this closeness between them.

(He ignores the part of him that is telling him that he is a fool for believing him after nothing but a few pretty words.)

“I don’t know why your father felt that he could trust me with such personal business, but I think he intended that meeting for another purpose entirely. I couldn’t help but feel as if I were under intense scrutiny the entire time. I believe he set up that meeting to see if I was worthy of his eldest son,” Adam says, smiling at him.

“But this was before-”

Adam puts a finger to his lips, hushing him. “I know. Which is why I was so surprised. And whatever silly scenarios you’ve been imagining, unless they involve me marrying you because I am madly in love with you and me paying off the debt because I care very much for our family, they are wrong.”

Oh.

“Madly in love?”

He gives Kris a look. “Isn’t it obvious?” Adam walks over to the armchair in the corner, sitting down and pulling Kris into his lap, arms firmly locked around him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, Kris. I know it’s something I should have told you myself. Hearing it from me could have saved us from these past few weeks.”

Adam won’t stop touching him, his hands wandering all over, as if trying to memorize Kris by feel. He can’t believe he denied himself - denied them both - this. Everything feels right when he’s in Adam’s arms. How could he ever have doubted this?

But still, something nags at him, something that doesn’t seem right.

“Adam, you said you couldn’t lose me again. What did you mean?”

That pale, panicked face reappears. “I shouldn’t have said that.” His arms tighten around Kris, so much so that he almost can’t breathe. Adam sighs, breath stirring the hairs on the nape of his neck. “But I suppose it’s too late now. I’d hoped to choose my hour of execution, but it seems that is not to be.”

The utter despair in his voice worries Kris. Adam has never sounded so hopeless. What could inspire such fear in him? He opens his mouth to ask, but Adam shakes his head.

“Let me finish first, please. I don’t think I can tell it in its entirety if you speak before I’m through. But, Kris, I want you to remember this: I love you. Don’t doubt that. No matter what you think of me after today, no matter how many lies I’ve told and secrets I’ve kept, I have never, ever lied about that.”

The words strike a chord in him, a memory that he has tried to forget.

 _“You will believe me someday, Kristopher.”_

 _“How far away is this ‘someday’?”_

 _“I don’t know. Years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds away. However long it takes for you to stop doubting that I love you.”_

 _“You would spend years trying to reassure me?”_

 _“I’d spend lifetimes doing so.”_

He cannot help trembling in Adam’s arms, the pain still as sharp today as it had been then. How much time must pass before it stops effecting him so? Why must he think of it at all when it does nothing but cause him heartache?

He’s happy now - he has Adam; he’ll make Kris forget. He doesn’t need to dwell on the past.

“Are you alright?” He nods. Adam looks unconvinced, but he leaves it alone. “I love you so much,” he says fiercely, pressing a kiss to Kris’ temple, the arm around his waist pulling him even closer. He curls up against him, trying to put as little space between them as possible. He never wants to let go. Everything makes sense when he’s with Adam.

They sit there in silence for a long while. Eventually, Adam speaks.

“Kris,” he says, strangled, as if his name is both a benediction and a curse. Kris can feel Adam’s rapid heartbeat, an erratic pulse that makes him anxious. He’s not sure that he wants to hear what Adam has to say.

“I lost my parents when I was younger. Tommy’s parents took me in for a few years after the accident and they tried their best, but I wouldn’t have any of it. I just wanted to be on my own. I wanted to forget. I left for London as soon as I could. I spent about five years there, mostly alone; I never let anyone get close. I contacted my family every few months to let them know I was alive and well, but other than that, I rarely spoke to anyone.”

It’s nothing that Kris hasn’t heard before. Adam had told him long ago of the tragedy that had taken his parents from him, when he’d been only thirteen. A highway robbery gone terribly wrong, escalating out of control and resulting in the deaths of all involved, including Adam’s parents.

He knows that Adam vanished from the public eye for a long while, known only in whispers as “that poor Lambert boy”, rumored to still be alive, but never seen by any of the _ton_ , at least until he had caused an uproar by reappearing on the London scene a few years ago.

What he doesn’t know is what Adam did in all that time. It’s one of the few subjects he refuses to speak of, made all the more noticeable by his complete and total honesty about everything else.

Kris has never pushed the topic - he knows that there are some things that you just cannot make people tell you unless they’re willing - but he’s always wondered.

“I don’t like to talk about what I did during that time. I didn’t kill anyone, or hurt them physically, but I did do a few things I’m not proud of. Being a mercenary can be an unsavory profession.”

Kris can’t help the small gasp that escapes him. Adam smiles at him ruefully.

“Everything looks like a good idea when you’re desperate,” he says wryly. “The things I was hired to do ranged from the mundane to the extraordinary. Some of the things I did were riskier than others. A couple of times I almost got killed,” Adam says casually. Kris’ hand tightens on his reflexively. “I’m alright now,“ he says soothingly. “I’m here, with you, safe and sound. But back then, I didn’t care. Nothing mattered to me, not even my own life.”

“I don’t care what you did.”

Adam stares at him, stunned.

“I don’t need to know what happened then; all that matters is now.”

He isn’t sure if he’s telling Adam to stop for his own sake or Kris’.

“I want to,” he says softly. “More than that, I _have_ to. There are some things you need to know, Kris.” His voice breaks then, taking a shaky breath that sounds more like a sob. “If I were a better man, I would have told you sooner. I should have told you the second I knew who you were.”

“Adam?”

 _Stop talking stop talking shut up don’t speak don’t say another word._

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for what I said to you then. I didn’t mean it. I loved you then and I love you now, and I’m sorry I made you believe otherwise.”

“Adam?” he repeats, starting to shake. He doesn’t seem to hear Kris, still trapped in his own thoughts, a steady stream of words leaving them almost too quickly for him to catch.

“You changed everything for me, Kris. You made me remember what it was like to care for someone else. You made me want to live again, to stop hiding. I knew we couldn’t have anything lasting if I kept living the way I had been. We were on borrowed time; you know that. You knew that it was only a matter of time before the ransom was paid and we would be forced to part.”

He can’t mean what Kris thinks he means.

But he has to. There’s no other way.

Kris recoils from the embrace that only moments before had brought him peace.

“Tell me you aren’t saying what I think you are.”

Adam doesn’t say a word. He does nothing but look at Kris, tears streaming down his cheeks, eyes frantic and pleading, asking him for something that he doesn’t think he can give.

“Tell me,” Kris demands, desperate. He can’t. It can’t be. He refuses to believe it.

He shakes his head. “I can’t. It’s the truth, Kris. I was the one who took you all those years ago.”

Played for a fool once again. And by the same man even.

The thought makes Kris laugh, on and on, and, god, he can’t stop, but laughing is better than sobbing. He dimly registers Adam grabbing hold of him, trying to talk him down, to stop the hysteria engulfing him.

“Let me go,” he breathes out in between bouts of unstoppable laughter.

He doesn’t want Adam touching him.

“Please, Kris, you have to breathe, you have to stop.” He runs over to the door and shouts for Tommy before hurrying back to Kris’ side.

“Don’t touch me,” he manages to say clearly, taking deep breaths and starting to calm, albeit not by much. He wants Adam to leave him alone. He doesn’t want to look at him. He doesn’t even want to be in the same room with him.

Someone is taking him from Adam, and at the sight of a familiar shock of blonde hair, Kris relaxes a little more.

“Kris, what’s wrong?” Tommy’s asking him, a hand landing on his back, steadying him when he starts to sway.

“Get him out of here. I can’t stand the sight of him.”

He sees Adam wince. Good. Let him feel pain. He’s caused Kris enough of it.

Tommy looks at Adam, bewildered. He can tell that Adam doesn’t want to leave, but damn what he wants; Kris wants him gone. He opens his mouth to argue, but Kris cuts him off.

“Just go.”

~*~

Adam loves scotch.

It’s his only friend. It’s the only one that loves him. It won’t get angry at him or hate him or avoid Adam like he has the clap.

Scotch is a much better match for him than Kris.

Wonderful, amazing, perfect Kris - his beautiful, shining boy. Adam has never stopped loving him. But at first, he’d been loving a memory, unchanging and flawless.

Loving Kris as he is, as he really is, that had been even better. He’s real in a way that the Kris he first met hadn’t been. He’d been so young then, still trying to find his way, barely out of childhood. He’s only a few years older now, but Adam knows more than anyone the difference a few years can make.

Fuck scotch; Kris is all he needs.

But Kris wants nothing to do with him, if his icy avoidance is anything to go by. The house feels more like a battleground than a home. Tommy had gotten tired of getting caught in the crossfire long ago. Not that it matters what he thinks, because he’s mysteriously vanished - and so has his fiancée.

At least they’re happy.

He misses his husband. The worst of it is that it’s his own fault for their new - and most likely permanent - estrangement. Adam wonders how long he has before Kris asks him for a divorce. Actually, the noble bastard would probably keep the marriage going if only because of the scandal that would befall their families if they did.

He can probably talk Kris into it. The _ton_ would believe that Adam’s faithfulness was only temporary. His considerable reputation will take care of everything. No one would fault Kris for leaving such a disreputable reprobate.

He at least owes Kris the chance to find someone who will make him happy - and keep him that way.

Adam has never believed in drowning your sorrows; he’s been converted. He feels…nothing.

He feels a dull ache that may be his heart breaking, but other than that, he feels numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Back where he was all those years ago, hurting and angry and wanting to forget.

He takes another long, burning gulp from his nth bottle of scotch. If he’s going to get foxed, he’s going to do it right.

The library door bangs open, making his head ache. Tommy is standing there, visibly worried. What the hell does he have to worry about? He just got hitched to his beloved in an incredibly romantic fashion.

“Shouldn’t you and Allison be enjoying a honeymoon of some sort?” Before Kim and Sara discover that they’ve eloped and proceeded to kill them both in an excruciating manner.

“I can’t find Kris!” he blurts out, as if he hasn’t heard a word of what Adam just said.

“Well, you won’t find him here,” he says morosely, taking another swig from the bottle. “He hates me, and rightfully so. He probably went to go find someone who deserves him. I hope he didn’t go to that Giraud fellow; he’s a moron. Kris can do so much better.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, stomping over and wrestling the bottle away from Adam’s tight grip, ignoring the unhappy noises he makes. “He didn’t just wander off, Adam. You don’t know this because you’ve been busy doing your own wallowing, but he’s taking this separation just as badly as you.”

“Well, he started it,” he mutters petulantly.

“Adam, you _kidnapped him_. And then lied about it. Of course he’s upset!”

He sighs. He knows that Kris has every right to be upset, but he can’t help resenting him for keeping away instead of speaking to him, like a normal person would. There’s needing time to think, and then there’s avoiding someone like the plague; Kris is doing the latter.

“I know all of that, Tommy. Why do you think I put it off for so long?” Wait. Adam never told Tommy about all of that. “How do you even know that?”

He shrugs. “I was there and he needed someone.” At Adam’s indignant look, he adds, “and don’t even think of being offended; you know why he couldn’t go to you.”

Adam hates it when Tommy makes sense. Which is all the time, really, but he makes it a habit not to tell him that.

“Is he alright?”

Tommy’s eyes soften. “You two really are a pair of smitten fools. He’s as miserable as you are. And you’re both just as stubborn as the other. No wonder you two ended up together; you’re too stupid to be with anyone else.”

“Your words touch my heart,” he says dryly. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because he will never forgive me for keeping it secret from him for so long.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” Tommy says cryptically.

Before Adam can try and figure out what he means - by “figure out” he means “pester Tommy until he becomes so vexed that he shouts it at him” - he remembers what Tommy said earlier.

“Wait, you said you couldn’t find Kris?”

Tommy gives him his patented look of disapproval and superiority. “Yes. But you got sidetracked by your pathetic moping. Kris could be hurt, you know.”

Adam thinks of bodies, necks snapped in half, eyes rolling listlessly back in their heads, lifeless, blood pooling around them, and pictures Kris lying somewhere, dying, waiting for someone to save him before it’s too late.

“Then tell me something useful!” he yells, springing up from the couch, suddenly sober. The world tilts alarmingly on its axis when he does so; perhaps not so sober after all.

Tommy holds something out to him, an envelope with a familiar seal on it.

 _That_ makes his body go on full alert.

He reaches out to take it from him, fingers trembling slightly. He hopes that he’s wrong - _prays_ that he’s wrong - because if he isn’t, then Kris is in grave danger.

The letter inside contains only a few short lines, brief and to the point. They’re enough to make Adam freeze inside, a cold dread filling him at having his suspicions confirmed.

It’s written in a familiar hand. He knows that the sharp, slanting letters were written with precision in each stroke, the letter itself folded very neatly to fit into its envelope, and the wax for the seal poured meticulously.

The seal is of a serpent poised to strike. If one knew where to look, they could make out the initials of their owner.

 _Hello, old friend. I have something you may want. You know where to go. SC._

He crushes the letter in his fist, the few words written on it enough to make his blood boil.

Simon will regret this.

~*~

Kris hates this room. He hates this entire place, and everything that it reminds him of.

It’s been years since either of them have been here, but part of him is still trapped here, in the memories of a time long gone. Perhaps part of Adam still lingers in this room too.

Both of them have held onto this room for years, to the events that had transpired here.

Kris has tried to forget; he’s failed.

When Adam came back into his life, he’d thought that he’d finally found the key to moving on. Of course Adam would turn out to be the very same man that Kris had fallen in love with.

They’re both trapped here and it seems that neither of them will ever escape.

After all, he and Adam are married.

The thought makes him laugh sardonically, loud and startling.

His captor - definitely not Adam this time - glares at him. Unlike Adam, his current kidnapper doesn’t wear a mask. Kris can clearly see who he is, and, to be honest, he’s not all that surprised.

Lord Simon Cowell, wealthy and influential nobleman long suspected of dealing in the seedy underbelly of London, but never actually caught doing so. It seems that Kris has found the proof. If he gets out of here alive, that is.

“I’d prefer it if you kept your mouth shut,” he says gruffly, eying Kris with contempt.

“Sure,” he says amiably. “As soon as you tell me why I’m here - again.”

It makes Cowell’s scowl - hah - deepen. “It’s none of your business. As long as your husband comes, everything will work out; don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

The wording makes him glare. Kris is _not_ some vapid, insipid twit whose only purpose is to look attractive on Adam’s arm. “I’ll worry my ‘pretty little head’ about it all I want. This is twice now you’ve taken me.”

That makes Cowell smirk. “So he did tell you about his sordid past. I had wondered.”

“Stop taunting me. Your options are to tell me something useful or bugger off.”

“I can see why Adam is so enamored of you; he always did like them spirited. I, on the other hand, prefer them silent.”

The brute is leering at him, close enough to touch Kris; if he does, he’ll vomit.

“Don’t even think about it. Adam won’t like it if you harm me in any way.”

If Adam even comes. Kris isn’t sure that he’ll care - or even notice - that he’s gone.

 _“ **Simon**!”_

The shout echoes through the house. Kris hadn’t known that Adam’s voice could carry like that; it’s a big place.

Cowell looks positively delighted. “It looks like your dear husband has arrived. Let’s go welcome him, hmm?” He grips Kris’ shoulders roughly, tightening the rope coiled around his wrists.

He marches them out the door, walking down the grand staircase, hurrying Kris along when he stumbles, unable to keep up with Cowell’s pace.

Kris wants to cry when his eyes land on Adam.

He looks like a wreck. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is a mess, and if he were in his right mind, he’d be horrified at what he has on. Kris still thinks he’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

“Adam!” he calls out, unable to help himself.

He turns to face them, eyes lighting up when he sees Kris. The joy there quickly dims when he sees who is with him.

“Cowell,” Adam says, cold, something frightening in his eyes. Kris has been finding it difficult to reconcile his Adam with the mercenary he claims to once have been; it’s not so hard now.

“There’s no need for such formality, Adam. After all, we’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

“You are my former employer; there’s nothing remotely resembling friendship between us.” He stalks closer, eyes never leaving Cowell’s. “Give him back to me, and I promise the end will come quickly.”

He doesn’t seem at all bothered by Adam’s threat. “Your precious boy hasn’t been harmed, so there’s no need to resort to that.”

“Why, Simon?” Adam sounds weary, hurt tingeing the question.

“You lied to me, Adam. You told me that you had absolutely nothing in the world worth living for. Imagine my surprise when the ruthless, efficient man I’d hired to do many an odd job over the years told me that he was done and then proceeded to disappear. Around the same time that Lord Adam Lambert reappeared.”

“I didn’t lie to you about that. I didn’t care for anything. All the wealth that I had inherited, it meant absolutely nothing to me. But I changed.” He looks at Kris and the intensity of his gaze makes his breath catch. “I decided to stop running from that world. There was something there for me again.”

Cowell scoffs. “Don’t feed me some rubbish about how love brought you back from the edge of destruction; I could care less about that. I know that it was you who paid off the ransom, not Lord Allen.”

Kris takes one look at his face and knows that Cowell struck a nerve.

His expression smoothes out, a blank canvas. “You got your money, Simon; what does it matter that it wasn’t from who you thought it was?”

“I don’t appreciate being played for a fool. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I took you at your word, Adam.”

“You got your money; the matter was settled.”

Kris freezes when he feels the cold metal of a gun press against his temple. “You’re a very wealthy man, aren’t you, Adam? That ransom was barely a drop in the bucket for you.”

“You hurt him-”

“I won’t. If you give me what I want.”

“Name your price.”

He wants to tell Adam not to do this. Cowell has a look in his eyes that terrifies him. He’s a man with nothing to lose, and he won’t be satisfied until Adam has been brought down to his level.

“I think that triple the amount you paid for Kristopher before will suffice.”

Kris’ eyes widen. Cowell can’t be serious.

“Have you completely lost it, Simon?”

“Funny you should ask. Take a look around, Adam. Notice anything?”

The question isn’t directed at him, but Kris lets his eye wander around the sparse hall, bare except for… It’s completely empty. Even the room upstairs, which used to be lavishly furnished, is vacant. The thick curtains that had kept out the bright sunlight and left Kris in constant darkness have gone missing, and the large, plush bed that had been his - and Adam’s - has also disappeared.

“You literally lost everything,” Kris blurts out.

Cowell moves the gun, digging it into the small of his back. “Quiet.”

He complies, but only because he’s never seen Adam look so scared. Kris tries to tell him without words that he’s alright. He doesn’t know how well he succeeds, but some of the tension in Adam’s shoulders eases, a small smile just for Kris briefly on his lips before flitting away, as if it had never been.

“You lost everything,” Adam says thoughtfully, repeating Kris’ words. “You were having some troubles the last time we spoke, but nothing that could account for all of this.” He spreads his arms wide, indicating the vast emptiness of the mansion, nothing but cobwebs and dust adorning what Kris imagines must have once been a grand entryway.

Cowell’s grip on Kris tightens to the point of pain, but his face is as impassive as ever, showing a confidence that Kris doesn’t think he truly possesses. “I have hit a bit of a rough patch, but with your generous donation, I’ll be back on top in no time.”

“Alright. You’ll have your money. But first, give me my husband back.” Adam holds a hand out, expectant.

It makes his captor laugh harshly. “You know me better than that. I’m going to keep an eye on your beloved husband until I have the money in my hands. You have a week, Adam; don’t cross me.”

He cocks the gun for emphasis. Kris can feel his legs shaking, knows that it’s obvious that he’s absolutely terrified. Adam looks steady and sure, but he knows that it’s mostly bravado; he’s just as frightened as Kris.

“I want him now, Simon. If you don’t hand him over right this instant, you won’t get a single penny from me.”

“Such arrogance,” he admonishes. “Are you really in a position to be making demands of me? After all, I’m the only one in this room who’s armed.”

“I don’t think so,” Tommy says, bringing a vase down on Cowell’s head, knocking him out cold.

Adam smirks, walking over and aiming a light kick Cowell’s side, checking that he’s well and truly unconscious. Kris can do nothing but gape at them; he hadn’t heard Tommy’s approach at all.

“Nicely done, Thomas. Although, a vase?”

Tommy shrugs. “My options were limited. You told me this guy had all sorts of useless blunt objects lying around. What did I find after I climbed in through the window? Nothing. Except this vase,” he says, petting the vase fondly.

Kris isn’t sure if the past few minutes really happened or if he got shot in some sort of scuffle that he blacked out on and now he’s having a dying dream to make himself feel better.

“Are you alright, Kris?” Tommy asks him, a comforting arm settling around his shoulders.

He feels real, warm and solid next to him. That really happened. They’re going to be alright. Kris opens his mouth, but the words get stuck in his throat. Tommy gives him a concerned look, ushering him forward into Adam’s arms.

He goes willingly into them, needing something to ground him. He feels Adam reach for his hands, still bound behind his back. He swiftly undoes the knots, absent-mindedly tossing the rope towards Tommy to use on Cowell’s prone body.

“God. Don’t ever, _ever_ do that to me again. I was so scared when I recognized the seal. I was so worried that I was going to be too late. But you’re alright. You’re perfectly alright and you’re here,” Adam babbles nervously, his composure vanishing now that the danger has passed.

Kris feels Adam kiss his forehead, and then his cheeks and nose and eyes and lips, scattering them all over his face as if it’s the only way he can assure himself that Kris is alright.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize, you daft man! I should be apologizing. If I hadn’t ever gotten involved with him, then you would be safe at home right now.”

“But then we never would have met,” Kris says without thinking.

Adam stops talking then, falling silent. Kris can feel it, that nameless something that has always drawn them together, filling the air and making it hard to breathe - in a good way.

“Can we not do this here?” Tommy says, interrupting them. “I need one of you - most likely the one who wasn’t recently held at gunpoint - to help me toss this lowlife into the carriage.”

Kris can’t help sighing in disappointment when Adam nods in agreement.

“In a moment,” he says briskly to Tommy before refocusing his attention on Kris. “We’ll talk when we get home,” Adam says hesitantly, almost as if he were asking permission.

Kris leans up to kiss him, quick and fleeting. It’s brief, but from the wondrous expression on Adam’s face when he risks a look at him, it’s more than enough.

~*~

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Kris looks annoyed with Adam’s constant questions, but he answers anyway.

“For the last time, I’m fine. I’m home, Cowell’s going to be taken care of by the authorities, and you and I need to talk. Don’t think you can put it off by attempting to distract me with your constant mothering.”

Usually, he’s less transparent.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he says softly, watching Kris’ irritation melt away.

“Adam,” he says, reaching out to him. He goes to Kris, sitting down gingerly next to him. He looks so small and fragile nestled on the bed, that quiet strength he possesses temporarily missing. He swears up and down that Simon hadn’t gotten violent and attacked him, but Adam won’t believe it until he sees for himself.

He hasn’t let go of Adam’s hand, clasping it firmly in his own. He wants to ask what it means - if it means anything at all. Kris could just be experiencing some sort of shock from the kidnapping, latching onto the closest familiar person. This doesn’t mean that he is willing to forgive, to let them start anew.

“Thank you.”

Kris’ quiet words startle him out of his musings.

“What for? I couldn’t let him hurt you. There was never any other choice in my mind, Kris. I had to go.”

“Don’t argue; just shut up and accept my undying gratitude,” he says with a crooked smile, looking more like himself.

“I would’ve done anything to make sure you got out of there safely,” Adam says quietly. “I almost went in by myself, but Tommy reminded me that I wasn’t going to help you by thinking irrationally. I just couldn’t-” He cuts himself off, trying to forget the brief, terrifying visions that had assaulted him earlier. If Kris had died…

He squeezes Adam’s hand, fingers stroking the knuckles tenderly. “You did get me out of there safely. I’m home, Adam.”

He wants to ask, but if Kris tells him something that he doesn’t want to hear… If Kris tells him something that he doesn’t want to hear, then Adam will learn to accept it and let him go.

“I love you.”

His head jerks up, unsure if he heard Kris correctly. “What? How? Why? After everything I’ve done-”

“I kept telling myself that I had forgotten all about you, that your casual dismissal hadn’t affected me at all. I kept telling myself that I hadn’t truly loved you, not someone who had taken me from my own home and kept me captive.”

Adam winces at the candid description. Kris notices and puts a hand to his face, caressing his cheek tenderly, looking for all the world like a man in love.

“But the truth is, I knew deep down that I was just lying to myself. I loved you, Adam. I thought of you the entire time we were apart. I couldn’t stop. You were the first person I had ever loved, the only person, and you had broken my heart.”

“I didn’t mean a word of what I said that night, Kris,” Adam says fiercely. “I was stupid and foolish and I thought that you’d be better off if you forgot all about me. I’m sorry that I hurt you to do so.”

“I know that now.” Kris pulls him forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Now hush and let me finish.”

Adam bites down on his bottom lip, silently agreeing to keep his mouth shut.

“I was never going to let anyone in. I was perfectly happy with the idea of living out my days unmarried, with droves of adopted children at my side. Then you came along. Lord Lambert, dishonorable rake.” Kris pauses, stifling a giggle. This close, his face looks distorted, but Adam still appreciates the sight. “You swept me off my feet. D’you know that my first thought when I realized how I felt for you was ‘finally, I can put those memories behind me’? Funny how things turned out.”

He doesn’t sound bitter or upset. Adam is reluctant to celebrate that the way his heart is screaming at him to. “Do you regret meeting me?”

Kris pulls back, putting some distance between them. His brow is furrowed in thought. He stays silent for a long while. “No,” he finally says decisively. “Do I regret _we_ met? Very much so. If things had been different, I don’t doubt that we’d be blissfully happy together.”

Adam can’t argue with that. The two of them had been blissfully happy in the beginning, but that had been tainted by the weight of his secret. And as of right now, they certainly aren’t happy. Kris is being civil, has even declared his love, but love alone does not a marriage make.

“I wanted so badly to make you happy,” he says, voice breaking a little.

“You did,” Kris says simply. “You still could.”

What?

“We made a lot of mistakes - huge, catastrophic ones - before. But I love you, Adam. I tried to fight it before; that didn’t work. Maybe this time, we can work through it together instead of trying to battle it on our own.”

He shakes his head, stunned. “When did you get so verbose? I don’t remember you being this articulate before.”

Kris smiles, the brilliant sunshine smile that Adam has loved since he first laid eyes on it. “I’ve grown up. And so have you,” he adds, quiet but certain. “Forgive but don’t forget. We move on and move forward, learn from what we didn’t get right the first time. You and I are worth fighting for. I’m willing to try again and make this work. If you are?” he says, unsure, as if there’s even a chance that Adam won’t say yes.

“I love you,” he says, cupping Kris’ cheek and moving in to kiss him, soft and tender. He yields to Adam so beautifully, something that he will never tire of.

Before, kissing Kris had felt like something he wasn’t allowed to have. He had no right to him when he was keeping secret after secret from him. Each kiss had been a reminder that while Kris was giving himself up to Adam with no reservations, he was hiding the truth from him.

This time, there’s no more secrets between them.

This feels right.

~*~

“Alexander, you stop pulling your sister’s hair right this instant!”

“She started it, Evie!”

“Did not!”

“Did too! You kicked my shin! I’m telling Daddy!”

“Not if I tell him first!”

“Emilia, Alexander, stop shouting! Your fathers have company, and I don’t think they’ll be pleased with either one of you if you don’t lower your voices and behave properly right this instant!”

“Actually, Evelyn,” Adam says, leaning against the playroom’s doorway, “their fathers and their company can hear all three of you perfectly.”

“Oh! My apologies, my Lord” their housekeeper, nanny, cook, and lifesaver gasps, a hand to her chest, trying to calm its rapid heartbeat after her master’s unexpected appearance.

“How many times do Kris and I have to remind you that the formality isn’t necessary? You’re practically family, Evie.”

She laughs, the same twinkle in her eyes that had been there when she’d bid them goodbye on their wedding night. “At least a million times more, my Lord. Do you want these little monsters to join you and the rest of the family, or shall I keep them locked up a while longer?”

“I’ll take the beasts with me. I think Kris misses his babies.”

He bends down to scoop up the two small children, one settled on each hip. They cling to him instantly, nestling in.

“Papa, Emmy kicked me and it hurt a lot,” Alex whimpers, using his big blue eyes to his advantage.

She glares at her brother from Adam’s other side. “I kicked you because you took Suzette!”

They continue to bicker as Adam walks out to the garden where everyone is waiting. He tunes them out after a while; he loves the twins, he does, but they can argue for hours about anything and everything, and God help anyone who tries to use logic on them.

Kris is sitting at a table with Allison and Tommy, fawning over the two-year-old in his lap, a little red-haired boy named Algernon; Tommy got Allison to agree that he got to name their first-born. It’s been far too long since the two of them have visited, and Adam doesn’t like how much bigger his nephew looks now.

At the sight of their favorite - and only - cousin, the twins scramble out of his arms and run over, loud and excited, squabble already forgotten.

He shakes his head and lets himself bask a little in the quaint scene before him. Allison is just starting to show, Tommy hovering at her elbow in case she needs anything. Adam never would’ve guessed that he would become such a doting husband and father, but stranger things have happened.

“You joining us?”

He blinks and notices that Kris is standing in front of him, has probably been for a while if his amused smile is anything to go by.

“I don’t know, dearest. After all, with Allison and Tommy here, there are more people around to help wrangle the monsters. We don’t get nearly as much alone time as I’d like,” he says suggestively.

Kris grins, pulling Adam down for a long kiss that barely stays “in front of the kids” appropriate.

“Daddy!” A little brown-haired blur - who seems to be wearing a dress, so it’s probably Emmy - launches itself at Adam’s legs, clinging tightly. He smiles down at her, letting go of Kris to pick her up.

“Hi, gorgeous. Why are you over here? I thought you and Alex were playing.”

She buries her face in his neck. “You’re nicer than he is,” she mumbles.

Kris rolls his eyes, holding his hands out for their daughter. “Give. These two need a talking-to about all their fighting.” He hoists Emmy up and she settles onto his shoulders, laughing happily.

“But before we go, I have to tell Daddy something.” Kris pauses, grinning mischievously. “Emmy, how would you feel about having another brother or sister?”

Their little girl starts moving excitedly, Kris automatically reaching up to steady her when she looks like she’s about to fall. “Really? Can we? I want a girl; boys are icky - like Alex. Do you have her already? How long will it take for her to get here?”

Adam’s too busy staring at his husband in shock to hear her questions, let alone answer them. Kris puts her back down on the ground, that sunny smile still on his face.

“Emmy, tell Alex I want to talk to the two of you later. Why don’t you go back over there and ask Aunt Allison if she’ll give you some sherbet? And, honey, don’t tell anyone else what I said about a new brother or sister yet, okay?”

She nods, mind already elsewhere, and runs off, leaving the two of them alone.

Adam pulls Kris back into his embrace, the two of them settling together effortlessly. “Are you saying that you want to have another monster or that you’re already in the process of having one?”

He turns his head slightly, leaning up to plant a kiss on the corner of Adam’s mouth. “In the process.” He’s been worried about how Adam will react to the news - the twins alone are more than a handful - but the moment had seemed right.

A beautiful, brilliant smile forms on his face, and Kris relaxes. He hadn’t really believed that Adam would be unhappy with the news, but a part of him couldn’t help worrying anyway.

He lets his hand drift down to his stomach, lost in thought. Adam’s hand comes down to rest on top of his, nuzzling in even closer.

“You do realize that we’ll never have time to ourselves ever again.”

Kris wriggles out of Adam’s arms, turning to face him. He grins devilishly, eyes darting to where the twins are well and truly occupied by their aunt, uncle and baby cousin.

“We seem to have time to ourselves right now. Shall we take advantage of it?”

Adam’s eyes darken slightly, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

Kris grabs hold of his hand and, together, they step inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 9/30/10


End file.
